


Between Scales and Skin

by gremlinwriter



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Attempted Kidnapping, Attempted Murder, Background Dorian/The Iron Bull, Canon-Typical Violence, Dragon turned human, Dragons, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Loosely Follows Canon, Misunderstandings, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, a tiny bit like the last unicorn only with a disgruntled dragon, background Lavellan/Solas - Freeform, liberties taken with dragons, long chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:14:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 38,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24770668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gremlinwriter/pseuds/gremlinwriter
Summary: Drawn into a trap, Zula found herself turned from dragon into a human through the means of blood magic. Forced to maneuver through a world foreign to her and seeking the aid of people who feared and hunted her kind, she soon found herself at the gates of the Inquisition. All she wanted was to return to her life like she knew it. Soon, Zula learned that guarding her secret became harder and harder, as unexpected friendships and a war entered her life and among all the chaos, she tried really hard not to fall in love as well.
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 45





	1. The Art of being Human

**Author's Note:**

> This story kept bouncing in my head for over a year, because I really love the dragons in Dragon Age and I finally buckled down and started writing it a few months ago. I'm honestly pretty nervous about posting it and I don't know if anyone will like it, but I have a lot of fun writing this story and I hope maybe someone might enjoy reading it too.
> 
> I've taken a few liberties with Dragon Age dragons, mostly their interactions with each other and such things. I'll do my utmost best to keep everyone in character and I hope to at least mostly succeed.

The smell of dragon blood was heavy and potent on the wind. And not any kind of dragon blood, but the blood of hatchlings, carrying with it the waking realization of _young_ and _protect_. Zula immediately banked to the right and headed towards the smell, mounting fury and worry scorching up in her chest. The blood smelled fresh though and that cautioned her. She was close to an area along the coast where no other dragon had recently nested or laid eggs. There shouldn't have been any hatchlings.

Zula heard the soft sound of a second pair of wings somewhere to her left, but it was farther off and not fast enough to belong to an enraged, grieving mother coming to avenge her young. It should, however, be Zula's friend Tyra, who she had spotted in the distance a little bit ago and who was probably now dropping by since they were both in the same area. Tyra tended to leave her territory and visit Zula's if they hadn't seen each other in a while.

Zula scanned the ground, eyes slightly narrowed and nose scenting. There. She spotted a clearing with a large and still wet pool on the ground and what looked like pieces of the hatchlings. Caved in sculls, torn off claws, pieces of tail and chunks of flesh that looked carved from shoulders and ribs, mixed in with the white glint of broken bone. Someone had hacked the babies apart. A growl curled out between Zula's teeth as she circled the area once. Nothing looked alive, but whatever had killed the young of one of her kind, it couldn't be far. The blood was far too fresh.

Grimly, a part of her wondered which dragon must have died for the young to end up here and slaughter. Would she find out one of her friends had been killed recently? Or would she hear of the mother or sister of a friend being hunted and murdered and their children stolen?

With a snarl pulling back her lips and smoke billowing between her teeth, she landed on the ground, feeling it shake and rumble beneath her. Trees of the surrounding forest bent and the thin ones even breaking beneath the beat of her wings. Zula didn't bother with being quiet. For one, there was no stealthing as a dragon, two, she wanted those foul people to know she was there. For only people killed hatchlings. Only people killed dragons. Another dragon would never hurt their kind. Would never hurt the young of another.

Digging her claws into the ground, Zula sharply glared around, waiting to hear the shout for attacks, the thud of tiny, running feet and the rattle of armor. She waited for the crackle of magic, the scent of it, anything to tell her where to lunge, who to kill to avenge the broken and torn children. She couldn't scent properly over the cloying smell of blood, so hearing and sight would have to guide her. Vaguely, Zula was aware of the soft wing-beat of Tyra flying closer and picking up speed now, since she most likely also scented the blood of killed young in the air. Her friend would arrive soon.

The snap of wood breaking drew her attention and Zula stepped forward, snapping out to bite through the trees. She ended with a mouthful of splintering trunks, but there, yes. Finally. Someone was cowering on the ground. One person wasn't enough to have killed the babies, but attacking them might draw out the others. She inhaled, ready to spit fire and took another step forward.

All around her, people rapidly broke out between trees and sprang forth from bushes, arms lifted and staffs clutched in hands. Fucking mages. Zula was about to lash out, when suddenly, symbols began to glow beneath the blood and her movements slowed and grew heavy. Chanting rose, the voices at first shaky and then growing in strength and the blood of the hatchlings seemed to get sucked into the symbols, turning them an eerie red.

Zula's mind grew numb, her body too heavy to control now and she felt herself crash to the ground, limbs akimbo and nose digging uncomfortably into the ground. Even her tongue and lungs felt like they hardly moved and the building fire in her chest died out in a plume of smoke that escaped from between her teeth.

One of the people stepped forward, a pale man with long brown hair and a triumphant gleam in his eyes that made him look nearly manic. The chanting grew louder and Zula's eyes fell closed as her mind became entirely blank. Zula felt the way her bones began to crack and her skin started to split. A painful pull seemed to drag all through the entirety of her body, like one big seizing of her muscles, robbing her of air.

Everything stopped making sense for a timeless moment, as her body started to shift and shrink, as her scales slipped beneath skin, her tail disappeared and her claws changed, as her snout shrank and her horns pulled into her temples. Her legs seemed to bend and change, her forelegs to shrink and her spine cracked and reformed as it shifted, her wings folding to sink into her shoulders. The fire that had always lived in her chest shrank and dimmed and for a cold second, she feared it would disappear entirely. In the end, it banked down to a tiny, single ember that glowed weakly.

When Zula managed to open her eye again, everything was suddenly big around her. The trees, the people, even the stones littered around her. Before her was an arm, stretched out and with scarred skin and five fingers that ended in clawed tips. It took her a long second to realize the arm was attached to her. For a moment, it felt as though her mind simply refused to work. It rejected what she saw, until the realization forced its way through.

Gone were the tough, red and gold scales. Gone were the wicked, big claws. Only the scars seemed to have transferred. She was no longer a dragon. She had been turned into a person. 

"Yes, yes!" The man before her, most likely the leader, screamed and around him, the other mages whooped. "Look at you." He crooned at her, grinning so wide it must have hurt his cheeks. He was clothed in ostentatious robes with gold trimming and elaborate embroidered symbols and Zula could smell the jewelry on him, the gold and gems.

"We really did it!" A woman cheered from the side and Zula could only stare at the man in front of her, struggling to breathe and wrap her mind around the fact that she was in a body that didn't belong to her.

She tried to move, only to realize that her whole body felt heavy and ached in dull pain, though it was fading slowly. Her limbs felt odd and she was caught in a mixture of wanting to scream and wanting to tear the man apart. Her senses at least were still the same, sharp as before, but her teeth were blunted to pitiful fangs and her clawed hands could barely be called claws at all.

"Hm, not absolutely everything turned entirely human." The man said, eyeing her hands as she struggled to get up, only to find that her balance was off kilter. "Let's see what else is different."

He was about to reach for her, magic crackling at the top of his staff, when Zula, panicking in a way she hadn't in a while, opened her mouth and _shrieked_ at him. For a lurching, horrified second she was terrified it wouldn't work, but when she watched him stop and sway in place, clearly stunned, she felt shaky with relief. A furious roar from above shook the trees in the next second.

"Dragon!" Someone shouted and Zula couldn't help but release a call to her friend, relief and rage curling through her chest.

Tyra descended upon the clearing in all her silver and ice-blue scaled, thunderous glory. The mages scattered, yelling and screaming and Zula heard them shout that they hadn't expected for another dragon to be nearby and that they couldn't perform another ritual. Thunder struck the ground as Tyra released her breath, tail lashing out to flatten a mage into the ground and wings half unfolded in a unspoken, threatening warning.

Zula met Tyra's eye, calling out in the language of dragons that it was her and she saw her friend's eye widen. Tyra rumbled, angry and furious and worried for her. 

Half the mages were killed while the rest managed to escape. Tyra didn't chase them the way she usually would have, instead she remained crouched over Zula, snarling and warning everything away. It was then that Zula realized just how big her friend was. As a dragon, Zula had actually been a tad bigger compared to her friend, but now that she was people-sized, Tyra was massive.

"Zula." Tyra's voice rumbled so strongly the ground beneath Zula's bare back vibrated. Her friend shifted to peer down at her, a low hum of confusion and worry thrumming through the air. Tyra's tail lashed in agitation and she kept her body angled to silently warn any approaching creature that she would attack if anyone dared to come too close.

Zula finally managed to sit up and with her fading adrenaline, she started to shiver. She stared down at herself, skin smeared with dirt and she numbly looked at her scarred legs and belly. Hair tumbled down her shoulders and brushed her skin and covered her neck. She reached a trembling hand up and lightly, hesitantly, patted rough fingertips over her face. A mournful, pained sound escaped her when she felt nothing familiar and she folded into herself, doing her best to keep breathing through her tight chest and painfully racing heart and the fury scorching her veins along with the fear.

The ground shook and a second later, she found herself encircled by her friend. Tyra carefully wrapped a clawed hand around her and pressed her close against a massive, scaled chest. Tyra hummed, reassuring and promising to help, not moving until Zula stopped shaking and gasping as though she was drowning. When Zula dared another glance at herself, she realized she had clawed at her skin and broke it in a few places, small beads of blood clinging to her skin.

Grabbing a scale of her friend's hide, Zula slowly dragged herself upright. At least how she gripped things was still mostly the same, even if the fifth finger was weird and there was an unexpected mobility to the digits. Everything was weird and wrong and her flames in her chest were nearly gone and her wings were _entirely_ gone. Zula carefully breathed through a new wave of overwhelming emotions and kept the panic and fury simmering low.

"It will probably fade soon." Tyra rumbled as she watched Zula take a shaky step while she still held onto one of the scales. Tyra sounded worried, though and Zula couldn't help but think that...it probably wouldn't be that easy. Not with how many hatchlings had been sacrificed to whatever magic had been forced upon her.

But no, that wasn't what she was going to focus on now. She wasn't going to think about this too closely, lest she dissolved into helpless fear and useless anger again. Neither emotion helped right now.

It took ages, until Zula figured out how to walk while holding onto something and Tyra patiently laid beside her, watching out and offering help when needed. In the end, the last of the adrenaline had faded and Zula was exhausted.

"Let me take you to your den." Tyra rumbled when the sun started to sink and Zula started to shiver to the point where her teeth chattered. That had _never_ happened before. Zula's fire had always kept her warm. Her scales had always kept her protected from the elements. Even when she had gone up far, far north to visit her mother, Zula had taken dives in the icy ocean and had been fine.

She didn't protest though, when Tyra carefully picked her up and twisted to set her down on her back. Her friend waited until Zula managed to find a safe position and then took flight. Zula felt her shoulders shift slightly on instinct, as though she tried to use now nonexistent wings. Her mind skittered away from that thought. Among all things, Zula loved flying the most. Her wings and her flames were the most important parts of herself. And now one was gone and the other almost extinguished. 

Tyra left the coast behind and soared over the waves, the scent of fish and salt and algae bright and familiar in the air. Zula watched, as a while later, her island came into view. People had never come there before, the sea was too wild for their boats and the reefs and jutting rocks tended to sink what boats the sea hadn't ripped down before. But it was the perfect home for a dragon, especially with cliffs rising around two thirds of the island and encircling it to form the most wonderful bowl-ish shape to nestle into.

Tyra landed swiftly and curled up to keep Zula as protected from the wind as possible, once Zula was back on the ground. Stumbling around on the soft, fine sand with her friend's support, Zula looked for her treasures. She was too cold and her skin and body seemed to grow ever colder still. Zula had kept all kinds of things and soon, she found some of those clothes that people wore. It took her a while to figure out how to wear the damned things and it felt constricting and awful and...she took a deep breath. Zula grabbed some of the white furs she had because she had liked the color and curled up, exhausted and cold, pressed against Tyra.

"It will be better in the morning." Tyra rumbled, head lifted as she scented the air. No one would come here and the place still smelled strongly of herself, but Zula could admit that it still reassured her to see her friend on the lookout. Her body getting changed against her will and into something so utterly foreign...it had rattled her, badly.

Zula curled up tighter beneath the furs and she felt so miserable, she couldn't even enjoy the way the fur felt. She had never felt something so soft, but the sensation paled compared to how absolutely, terrifyingly wrong everything else was. Nothing about her was right anymore.

~*~

"We need to find a mage." Tyra said as she watched Zula climb around the den. "You'll have to keep secret who you truly are, though."

Zula wasn't sure how many days had passed since she had been turned. She usually didn't bother with counting those, the seasons guided her and the sun or moon decided on whether or not she hunted and where she would hunt. 

Enough time had passed though, that she stopped panicking at everything strange with her new body and she could now move around nearly as well as any earth-bound person could.

Tyra and Zula had tried everything they could think of. At first, they had waited to see if the magic would simply wear off. Tyra had hunted for them and told other dragons she met what had happened, so they knew of Zula's current disposition and to watch out for similar traps laid by people. The last thing either of them wanted was for more of their kind to end up turned into people, and worst of all, to get captured. 

After the period of waiting, Tyra had brought all kinds of things to Zula's den, from the blood of a giant to herbs found only at a fire spewing mounting. Nothing had worked or helped. Even other dragons had dropped by to bring things to try and undo the magic and that had brought no changes either. Zula wondered how long it would take before her mother caught wind of things and would fly down from her icy home. A while, the north was far away and Zula's mother preferred to mostly keep to herself, only talking to her closest friends and her only surviving daughter every couple of months.

Zula sighed and stopped sorting through another pile of her treasures. She knew her friend was right. Staying here didn't change anything. Zula only got more miserable and if she was honest, she started to become bad company too. Zula wasn't use to being cooped up and helpless. As a dragon, whenever she hadn't slept, she had been out and about. Hunting, checking in on other dragons that she knew and collecting treasures. She had her lazy times, sure, but never for so long.

"I know." Zula sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. At least her face was no longer as startling as before. And she had figured out how to care for all the weird hair as well, so it was clean and didn't start to smell bad. "Where do we find a mage?"

Tyra drummed her talons on the sand for a moment, the tip of her tail flicking in thought and her head tilted slightly at an angle to silently request some patience. Zula, robbed of many ways to bodily communicate, had started to vocalize more to make up for it. It made her down-right chatty nowadays.

Finally, Tyra sighed and low noise of unhappiness escaped her. "We'll have to look for people. And you'll have to ask them, they should know where mages are."

Zula had, if she was honest, had already thought as much. Dragons had no mages, only people did and they had any information Zula needed. At least she had enough gold to pay people for things - or, that was what she thought. As much as she hated parting with her stuff, she knew the concept of bounties and payment and whatnot, so gold was what she'd need.

"There is a coastal town." Zula said after a moment of silently chewing through her reluctance and general desire to stay away from people.

People hated dragons, that was no secret. They attacked in groups and murdered and slaughtered everything from hatchlings to younglings to adult dragons. They butchered their corpses to pull flesh and bone and teeth apart and take all that, as though they hadn't just killed and then destroyed the body of a beloved friend, a dear daughter or a caring mother. People mounted severed heads on castle walls and celebrated the kills as though they hadn't caused deep grief and pain. (She'd never forget the day she passed by a castle only to spot the head of her last sister, eyes dull and tongue lolling out in a grotesque masquerade of a smile.)

Zula herself had fought numerous battles over the years of her life. Twice she had almost been killed and her body carried the scars to show it. She knew that the deep scar on her face was one of the more prominent ones, drawing across her right brow, barely missing her eye and continuing down her cheek, kissing the corner of her mouth and dipping past her jaw to her throat. The battleaxe that had hit her head twice in rapid succession had almost taken out her eye back then. 

Most of her scars centered around her arms and legs and on the flats of her belly and swell of her chest, with a few more thin lines across her neck. There was only a single scar on her back, since people usually didn't manage to get that high up with their attacks.

Zula was, therefore, more than wary of people. She didn't quite hate them, she wasn't foolish enough to hate entire races for the acts of some warriors and mages. But she did hate those that hunted dragons and killed them . Zula had helped other dragons in the past, had breathed flame and fury on those who tried to kill her kind. She had bitten and chewed and even swallowed people to keep them from murdering anyone else. She had been too late too, however and could do nothing but chase them away from the corpse before they could tear into it like ravenous crows.

The thought of seeking people out willingly, of needing their help was...discomfiting at best. On the other hand, Zula didn't know what other choice she had. It would be dangerous, no doubt about that and no one could ever find out what she truly was. However, maybe she could find a mage, throw enough gold at them to make them agree with helping her and once she was back to being a dragon, she could fly off before people killed her.

"I'll take you to the town." Tyra said. "Let me know when you want to leave."

Zula sighed and stared up at the sky. Oh, how she longed to fly. It was becoming rather painful that she couldn't, an ache that ate through her heart and left her restless at night and morose during the day. A dragon was meant for the air, a dragon was meant to soar amongst the clouds, ride the winds and be unbound. She was currently nothing of that.

"Let me get some things and then we leave right away." Zula decided and briefly closed her eyes. "I loathe being like this."

Tyra waited silently as Zula started to pick things out of her treasures. Zula packed a change of clothes and a pouch of her gold. She tried out a few different pieces of armor, only to realize that most of it didn't really fit or was just cumbersome or restricting in movement. In the end, she settled on a mixture of a gambeson and pieces of metal armor, both fitting well enough. And because she could and had seen a lot of people wear weapons, she strapped a sword to her side. The buckles and belt took a bit of figuring out, but in the end, it at least looked like it had on warriors she fought.

At last she shouldered a sturdy leather backpack. Zula had actually kept that on a whim and she was all the more glad for it now. Ensuring she had everything she thought she needed, Zula clambered up Tyra's back. Her friend held still until she sat comfortably and at Zula's call, Tyra unfolded her wings. The pang of envy and pained longing was expected by now and Zula closed her eyes when her friend pushed off the ground. At least she could still enjoy the rushing wind.

Tyra soared over the ocean, as choppy and wild as usual. The waves smoothed out the farther they went from Zula's island and soon they became calm, the ocean glittering in the morning sun. Zula didn't know how long it took to reach shore again, but she spotted the harbor town easily enough once they arrived. Her sight was thankfully still the same as when she'd been a dragon. Tyra landed briefly in the forest close to the town, just long enough for Zula to slide down to the ground.

"Be careful." Tyra said, dipping down her head to give Zula the gentlest of friendly nudges. It still almost knocked her off her feet. "If anything happens, I'll stay close to the shore for a few days. Call for me, and I'll come. Afterwards, I'll head to my den, you know where it is and you can reach it easier than if I were to wait at your island."

"I'll find you, should I need you." Zula promised and she hoped that she wouldn't end up dead within a handful of days. "Be careful as well."

Tyra pushed back off the ground and Zula had to quickly brace herself, before she could be blown off her feet. She had never quite realized just how powerful dragon wings felt for something people-sized. Turning towards the town, she swallowed her misgiving and worry and tried to put on a friendly face. Taking a calming and bracing breath, she headed down the hill and through the trees. By the sun, hopefully she wouldn't come to regret this.

Her legs carried her steadily enough by now and when she arrived, the people milling about looked as though they had calmed from the fear and shock of having a dragon fly overhead and land nearby, however briefly. Zula was wary and careful as she entered the town and kept an eye out with every step. She had no idea who to approach or who to talk to. If she was honest, she wasn't even entirely sure how well she could speak one of the people languages.

Zula knew a good number of words, considering she had been harried by people ever since she had left her mother's den as a youngling. The language most commonly used was the one she knew best. Zula also knew bits of the other languages humans spoke and some phrases in dwarvish and elfish and some words in qun. Or rather, she could curse a lot in those languages and yell out numerous ways to attack. Hopefully she could communicate things well enough.

Zula had never known how people acted when they weren't screaming bloody murder and tried to hack her to pieces or were running in fear, so she just watched the comings and goings for a few long seconds. They were just so...strange and yet kind of mundane. She was still wary and careful in her approach when she finally decided to get it over with and ask for help. People seemed to figure out what she wanted even with her limited vocabulary and after she shook some coin at a particularly thoughtful human, she finally managed to find her way to an office of rangers.

"You need a mage?" The leader asked, eyebrows rising in surprise. He had braided black hair and clean shaven features and stood nearly a head taller than she did. "What for, if you don't mind me asking? Mages aren't exactly...you know."

Zula actually didn't know, but she couldn't very well say it. She was worried enough about coming off as too weird and non-people-y already. Her stomach tightened uncomfortably at the thought of someone, somehow, figuring out the truth, as impossible as it may sound. As a person, she didn't know how well she could defend herself, even with the pitiful claws she had and her shriek. A mob now attacking could be certain death.

"I got in trouble with magic, I have questions." She said, a bit haltingly to ensure she got the words out correctly. She had never spoken a people-language before being changed, dragon throats weren't exactly made to replicate that kind of speech. If Zula was honest, human throats had a surprising capability of making a variety sounds, she could still speak dragon like before after all.

The ranger hummed and eyed her for a moment. "Well, unfortunately, things have gone pretty sour recently. With that tear in the sky and the rebellion of the mages on top of that. I heard that the Herald is looking to do something about it, but who knows what she'll decide, or when. I think your best chances at this point are to head up to the Inquisition once a decision is made and ask around for help with magic there. I wouldn't trust most circles these days."

Zula blinked for a second and realized that, while she understood most-ish of the words, she had absolutely no idea what the man had just said. Her expression must have given away how lost she was, since the ranger's face softened a bit.

"Look, if you need help from a mage, it's best to wait a bit, alright? If it's not something that is a live or die situation, let the mess with the rebellion settle down and wait for the move of the Inquisition." He nodded at her sword. "Are you any good with that? We could always use an extra pair of hands."

Zula briefly felt numb all over. Wait. She had to wait, that much she had clearly understood. She looked down at her sword. "I don't know how to use it."

The ranger looked surprised, before he regarded her. "How about this then, stranger. We teach you how to fight, you help us hunt and keep people safe when you're ready, and once things have settled down, we'll help you hitch a ride to the nearest circle. Or the Inquisition."

Zula stared at him for a long moment, before she sighed in defeat. There really was nothing she could do but wait, she realized. Zula didn't even know what he meant by circle. Oh, she knew what a circle was, round thing and all, but the way he talked about it, it seemed to be a thing and not a shape. And, as begrudgingly as that admission was, she needed to know how to fight in this body and how to speak their language better. Like this, Zula couldn't very well hope that her pitiful claws and tiny fangs would be enough.

"Yes." She agreed reluctantly. 

The man smiled and reached out a hand. "Great, I'm Ellion."

"Zula." She answered and stared at his hand in confusion. Ellion looked just as confused briefly, before he appeared considering.

"We shake hands here." He said. "As an agreement, sometimes as a greeting, to show we're friendly."

Warily, Zula reached out. She had never touched a person before without intending to kill them or at least chase them off. And even then she had either bitten down on them or clawed at them. Not gripped them. His hand was callused and strong as he took hers and moved it up and down. He blinked in surprise when she squeezed back carefully. He gave a low whistle.

"Nice grip, alright. I think you'll make a wonderful ranger with enough training." He gave her a toothy, lopsided grin, his face lighting up and looking a lot friendlier than before. Huh. Handshakes really were something. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the others. You're not from around here, are you?"

Well, she kind of was, but she couldn't really tell him that. "No."

"I thought as much. Well, welcome to the rangers, Zula. I'll show you around town later too, if you want. Don't worry, you'll feel at home in no time."

~*~

In the weeks she spent with the rangers, Zula learnt a great many things. She learnt that her body was tougher than she expected at first, at least compared with other humans. She bled less easily and her bones were sturdier and she healed swifter. She wasn't faster, but she could jump higher and farther and drop from greater heights without getting hurt.

Zula learnt that she was stronger than most people as well and that she could carry greater weights. She was absolutely shit at stealth though, and Ellion spent long hours with teaching her how to move carefully and what to watch out for so her feet would be quiet in the forest. She refused to use her shriek even once, for fear of tipping them off and she tried to be more subtle with how good her ears and nose were, though she feared she was failing on that front. There were only so many times she could hide the way she scented the air for prey, after all.

Zula was glad to find she picked up on the language rather quickly, so she at least progressed well on that front. Her sword fighting, according to Ellion, still needed work, but he said she made up what finesse she lacked with brute strength.

Most of all, Zula learned that people were fucking weird. She kept stumbling from social mistake to social mistake and her confusion remained ever present, as did her frustration. People made so many things so complicated and even with a better grasp of their language, she sure as fuck didn't understand some of their motives and actions any better than before. By now, Zula was certain she had insulted or offended, however involuntarily, most of the coastal town.

"You." Ellion told her one day after steering her away from a fight that nearly broke out with a drunk man. "Are a troublemaker."

It took a long explanation for Zula to understand just what he meant with that. Oh, she knew the term troublemaker, but it confused her. She had always been respectful before, like all dragons were amongst each other. No intruding on dens without invitation, no stealing another's things and if a dragon asked for help, she had always readily given it. And she had never been rude before either.

"Just, don't get angry that quickly, alright?" Ellion told her, after trying to explain that her staring had pissed off the drunk man. "And don't look at people for too long. It's rude."

Zula didn't know how to explain to him that she was just watching. She just wanted to understand. She also didn't know how to tell him that anger was necessary for survival as a dragon. Especially around people. Anger was better than fear, anger meant she could act and wasn't frozen in place.

 _Always choose anger_ , her mother had told her once when she had been young. _It will keep you more alive than being afraid. So be furious and **stay alive**._

"Yeah, the staring is kind of weird." One of the other rangers, Carry piped in. When Zula looked at her, Carry made a face and shrugged. "I mean, it feels kind of...predatory? I don't know, you're just so focused, sometimes I'm not even sure if you're blinking. It's fine out in the field, you know? But in town you can tone it down." Carry gave her a smile. "We're all friendly here."

People, Zula decided with a mental, aggrieved sigh, were and would forever remain, weird as fuck. Their seemingly endless rules were exhausting and she was glad whenever she could stick to the woods and stay away from town. She still wasn't use to people, still watched for the blade that would strike, for the voice that would scream 'dragon!' when she least expected it. Zula never truly felt safe, for she wasn't. Not among people who would murder her the second they would find out what she truly was.

If she was honest, she was tense all the time and tired because of it as well. It slowly shredded her patience, made her more short tempered than she usually was and she still felt wrong all over, so that didn't improve anything either. She probably would be less prone to attracting trouble if she didn't feel as if she had to be ready for a fight every second she spent around people.

But, alright, no fights. It was easier said and done, but Zula figured out a way to stare a little less openly.

Then, finally, Ellion told her the news she had been less than patiently waiting for.

"The Herald has sided with the mages." Ellion told her after returning from a successful hunt. If Zula was honest, she was still getting used to the fact that animals she had eaten in one or two bites before could now kill her if she wasn't very careful. "I think if you go to Haven, you have good chances finding a mage willing and capable of helping you."

"Where is it? How do I get there?" Zula asked, perking up in excitement and relief. Finally. Hopefully it wouldn't take long until she could be herself again. Oh, how she longed for the sky, longed for a fire in her chest instead of a tiny ember she was afraid to lose as well one day.

Ellion waved her with him inside his home. His wife and children weren't present, but Zula could smell their scents. They lingered everywhere in the house, all the scents interwoven to make a clear claim on who the place belonged to. Ellion pulled out a big piece of parchment and rolled it out on the kitchen table. Zula stared down at the painted picture and the squiggly lines.

"We're here." Ellion pointed at one bit of the painting. "And Haven is up there." He pointed at another. "It's quite the journey, but I can ask one of the traders to take you along and you should arrive safely."

Zula stared at the picture and realized that he had pulled out a map. She'd seen only one before in passing and it had looked kind-of similar. With a sinking, cold feeling, she understood that the squiggly lines were names. It was writing. And she couldn't read for shit. Worst of all, she would keep needing the help of other people, because people named places differently than dragons and that map looked nothing like her mental recollection of the lands. With a start, she came to the late realization that everything looked kind of different from the air. Would she even be able to find Tyra's den by walking? She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.

"When can I leave?" She asked and shoved every other thought aside. Just a bit longer, she told herself. Just a little bit longer and then she could be a dragon again.

Ellion gave her a slightly rueful smile. "I'll arrange things with the traders, so get ready to leave in a few days. And I'll write a little recommendation or something for the Inquisition, in case you want to join them or need some papers to be let in. Until then." He nodded to her sword. "Let's train, you need all the practice you can get."

~*~

Traveling with traders taught Zula that horses didn't like her much. She reasoned that she probably still kind of smelled like a dragon, since they were skittish around her and it took days for the horses to stop spooking away from her whenever she moved to fast or came too close. It was...weird. Zula had eaten horses before, they were nicely sized meals, but standing before them now? They could trample her easily. So the wariness was mutual and she kept a healthy distance from the horses whenever possible.

The traders were a chatty folk. They loved to tell stories, especially once they noticed that she wasn't from around here and knew little, or rather next to nothing, about local legends or royalty and whatnot. It was interesting in a way, Zula had never known just how creative people could be, or what sort of stories they made up for the stars and stones and whatever else. Or how interested they were in the lives of people they never met but apparently heard a lot about.

It got colder too, the further they traveled and soon she had to switch her clothes to something warmer, pulling out the cloak Ellion had given her as a parting gift. Zula didn't know how to feel about him and the rangers. They had been...kind to her. Helpful and friendly. She had never known people could be so nice to be around. At the same time, she had kept herself from growing too close to them. It wouldn't do, for her to get attached only to find them attacking her sometime down the road, once she was a dragon again.

The traders didn't take her all the way to Haven, but they brought her as close as they could. As Zula got ready to leave, she found herself piled with directions and tips on how to arrive safe and sound and what to do to avoid getting lost.

"Take care, Miss!" The leader of the traders, an elderly man who had been nothing but jovial the whole time, shouted in parting. "Stay safe!"

She waved after them, because that was what people apparently did, before she turned to the snowy path. Staring up the rising mountain, she felt a sharp, bitter pang at the loss of her wings. This mountain wouldn't look so imposing if she could still fly. Sighing, she started climbing.

As it turned out, climbing up a mountain covered in snow was...testing and of very little fun. There were sheets of ice hidden under the white and Zula once or twice almost lost sight of the path because everything was just covered in snow. Night fell far too soon, but at least now she was at a point where she could see Haven in the far distance. It looked tiny from here, but it would probably be rather big once she was there. Everything was rather big these days.

Zula debated whether or not to set up camp - the rangers had taught her how - when the wind picked up and brought a strange smell to her. Pausing, she frowned and lifted her nose, scenting the air. Her lips peeled back slightly when she realized it smelled of a lot of people, of blood and rage and...something else. Something that made her curl her fingers and hunch her shoulders to look more threatening. The hairs on her neck were raised, which felt weird as fuck, but she knew the sensation to be one of warning by now.

Zula swallowed back the warning growl that wanted to climb out of her throat. She was no longer a dragon, the chances that things would run from her when she growled were far, far slimmer than before and she wasn't overly confident in her sword skills. Besides, whatever was heading towards her, she already knew she had no chance fighting it. There were far too many people.

Rather quietly, thanks to Ellion's relentless practicing, she scaled up a tree and hid amongst the branches, hunkering down to make a smaller target. Then she grew still and waited. It wasn't too hard, she never had trouble with holding still and staring after all. Zula tilted her head and listened carefully. It took her a moment to realize that the strange background hum, which she had attributed to a weird noise of the mountain, was in fact the marching of dozens upon dozens of feet.

Soon enough, numerous of people appeared between the trees. Some of them glowed an eerie red and Zula felt herself swallow unintentionally. Something about that red glow was very, very wrong. Unsettlingly wrong and the strange scents she caught from those people reflected it. They had been human, but now their smells were malformed. She held carefully still, as the army marched beneath her. And unerringly towards Haven.

Frowning, she tilted her head and listened carefully, but the few people that were talking, kept their voices low enough that it was impossible to hear the words, drowned out by the sound of the marching. Something bad was going on, Zula didn't even need her senses and instincts to tell her that.

She didn't know how long she crouched up in the tree, but the stream of people didn't seem to want to end. Then the attack started. Zula watched as fires were lit and balls of it hurled at Haven and she faintly heard far off screams. Finally, the last enemy warriors passed below her and disappeared between the trees. She slowly slid down her tree and landed in the trampled snow, countless footsteps having churned it to the point where it had turned muddy from the earth below.

Slinking after the marching soldiers and keeping a careful distance, Zula did her best to circle around the army and find a new spot to perch on and watch. Just as she found an outcropping of rocks away from immediate notice, she heard the sound of dragon wings. Snapping up her head, her eyes scanned the sky. Who would possibly show up around here? Dragons stayed away from wars and battles, especially with that many people present. It was just simply nonsensical to get close.

The dragon that passed above her a few seconds later, wasn't one she had ever seen. If anything, Zula had never seen a dragon like that before. Ash grey and with strange plates on weird skin that had far too few scales from the looks of it.

It roared as it soared towards Haven and she couldn't help but think that while it sounded like one of her kind, something was off. Something was wrong. She stared, a sick feeling sloshing around her stomach and her heart sank. That dragon smelled like the red glowing people. Only far, far worse and the sounds it made had lost all resemblance of their language. It just portrayed emotions. Rage. There was nothing but rage in that dragon and yet, it was the most contained and controlled rage Zula had ever heard.

Slipping down from her perch, she hurried onwards once more. Almost sliding down a slope, she barely avoided getting detected by the stragglers of the army. She didn't know what she intended to do, but something bad was going on and that dragon was...it was either very sick or had lost its mind to that glowing red or something of the sort.

But no matter how quickly she tried to hurry around the army, Zula was still too far away when she watched Haven fall, when she watched the avalanche descent, the attacking warriors fled and the dragon flew away _with someone sitting on their back_. No dragon had ever willingly carried a person, at least none that Zula knew of. People liked killing them too much for even a semblance of friendship to be possible. By the sun, just what was going on here?

Zula, thanks to her distance, managed to avoid getting caught in the avalanche, but picking her way through it afterwards towards the remnants of Haven was a true pain in the ass. She arrived, finally, sweaty and angry and exhausted. There was little left of the place. Pieces of wood and roof stuck out of the snow and here and there an arm or the back of a person was visible. No one around her had survived, as far as Zula could tell.

"Fuck." She said, standing in the dark on the snow and smelling hints of blood and charred wood, the scent of war that even the snow didn't manage to cover entirely. Walking around, she started to pick her way across the mostly covered battlefield, looking for any kind of sign. Surely someone had to have survived? What about the mages that were supposed to be here? Had they all died? She really hoped that wasn't the case.

Zula saw the hole just in time to avoid falling into it. It was almost entirely covered, but there was a bit where snow had fallen through and left a gap. Peering down, she eyed the step drop and scented the air, only to pause in surprise. Among the smell of ice, she could detect of bits of fresh blood. Not enough to show someone had bled out. Someone had fallen down there. Glancing around, Zula hesitated for a second. Climbing back out might not be possible, even with her claws and strength. But this was the only hint she had on someone possibly being alive.

Taking a bracing breath, she jumped down. The landing was harsh and she grimaced as her legs stung and ached all the way up to her hips. A few careful steps though let her know that she hadn't injured herself. Good. The last thing she needed was a busted leg on this blasted mountain. Crouching down, she squinted to try and see better. It was dark down here, but her sight and nose allowed her to pick out the drops of blood. There was a smear where someone had fallen and laid for a little bit. And small drops leading away. Someone had survived and was capable of moving.

Zula followed the trail, which grew thinner and thinner. The wound must not have been bad or the person had something to heal themselves with. Either way, it was promising that they were still alive. Zula passed by the signs of a fight, a strange smell hanging in the air. It smelled...otherworldly. Kind of like the strange beings she would spot from time to time as she flew overhead. Could those be the demons Ellion had told her about? Zula had never fought any before, she usually fought to hunt or to keep herself alive and only occasionally out of the pure pleasure of battle. Demons had never been something she had clashed with.

Soon, she found herself emerging from the tunnel and to a snow covered mountainside. Flakes started to drift more and more from the sky and the wind began to pick up. There were still some footprints visible and Zula hurried to follow, only to sink nearly thigh-deep into snow. Great. Awesome. Walking through this snow wasn't going to take forever at all. Growling beneath her breath at everything, she started walking as quickly as she possibly could.

The wind began to howl and soon she had to lift a hand to shield her eyes the best she could. At one point the snow at least wasn't quite as deep, but wading through it still left her sweaty and increasingly tired. She honestly didn't even know where she was going and Zula wondered with a sinking feeling, if she was going to die up here in the snow. If it hadn't been for her nose, she wouldn't have noticed the person trudging their way through the snow ahead of her. She barely spotted pointy ears through the snow and hair. An elf, then.

Perking up at the scent of battle and blood, Zula picked up the pace. Soon enough she saw someone in the snow ahead of her.

"Hey!" Zula called out, just barely keeping from using a dragon noise to garner attention. She still struggled at times to use people language instead of sounds that would have been understood and heard by her kind easily enough.

The elf whirled around and Zula got a good look at a face with inked lines - she knew what tattoos were now - and the woman had a wary and worn look on her face. She didn't look aggressive though and waited, shoulders hunched against the ever growing wind, until Zula had caught up with her.

"Are you from Haven?" The woman asked. "I didn't think anyone had survived."

"I was on the way there." Zula answered, pulling her cloak a bit more around her. "Then I saw what happened and looked for survivors."

The woman eyed her a moment longer and then seemed to believe her. "I think the others went this way. There is a camp further up. I'm Lavellan, by the way."

"Zula." 

They started walking again, this time side by side and Zula was secretly relieved to hear from Lavellan that others from haven should have survived as well. There must be at least one mage amongst those. The snowstorm grew stronger and soon she had to rely on her ears and nose to ensure she didn't lose track of Lavellan. It was because of that, that Zula noticed first when they finally found the people Lavellan was tracking.

"We're close." Zula shouted over the howling wind and with her squinted sight saw Lavellan nod. The woman looked...exhausted. Worn. Zula was certain that she wasn't doing so well, coming from a battle like that, falling down a hole and then fighting her way through a snowstorm. Zula herself was getting really tired from trudging her way through all that snow.

The voices rose as they were spotted soon enough and Zula was too surprised to react in time, when Lavellan's legs gave out. Within moments, people were there and Zula was being questioned while Lavellan was taken away by worried friends. At least she assumed they were Lavellan's friends. Only after Zula pulled out Ellion's letter and handed it to the hooded woman in and shiny armor, was she allowed into the camp.

Sticking to the fringes, Zula looked over the present people, most of them exhausted, some of them hurt and she could smell the blood in the air. It probably wasn't the best time to go around asking for a mage, not when the mood was...precarious and so many people were exhausted. So she tucked herself in front of a crackling campfire and watched, doing her best to not stare directly, as Ellion had advised her.

Hopefully things would be better in the morning.

~*~

The trek to Skyhold was long and everyone was too busy for questions. Zula herself was too busy as well to ask around for a mage, at least beyond the first few questions that were shut down by everyone packing. Zula was quickly put to work once she said that she wanted to stay with them. It was...weird. Following orders was nothing Zula was really used to. Doing what Ellion had said had made sense, because he had shown her how to do new things and how to survive and fight. Zula had followed his words because he had been guiding and teaching her and had made sense.

Following orders here was different and she had to bite back a warning snarl a few times someone roughly tasked her with something. Dragons weren't made to be ordered around and she chafed against it. But, there was nothing she could do if she wanted to talk to a mage later. So Zula swallowed her misgivings and only a few people asked her why she looked angry.

On the day they were supposed to reach Skyhold, Zula noticed one of the dwarves sidling up to her.

"Man, that's one dark face." He said, sounding lighthearted and friendly. He was broad shouldered and strong and showed a surprising amount of skin for such cold weather. Maybe he didn't feel it as much? Zula longed for her dragon body. She had never truly been cold before, not like she was now.

"Everything alright?" The dwarf asked and he gave her a lopsided, slightly roguish smile. He looked nice enough. "I'm Varric Tethras."

"Zula." She answered and allowed an aggrieved sigh to slip out. "I'm alright."

Varric raised an eyebrow. "You don't quite sound like it. Someone giving you trouble?"

One of the nearby soldiers, Terris if she remembered correctly, snorted. "More like she's the trouble." At her glare, he glared right back. "Well, she listens I guess, but...just look at her!"

Zula barely managed to keep from baring her teeth at the man. She wasn't supposed to do that, Ellion had been firm on that rule. Terris been harrowing her ever since they started heading towards this Skyhold, always giving her more tasks and needling her for one mistake or another she hadn't been aware of making. Her lips still twitched in clear distaste and Varric chuckled.

"Not fond of orders, are you?" He said and he sounded amused with an undercurrent of understanding. Though, Zula did notice that his eyes remained sharp and clear during the whole conversation, attentive and watchful. "What brought you to the Inquisition then?"

"I need a mage." Zula answered truthfully. Varric looked slightly surprised. "Ellion said I would find one here."

"The ranger's word is the only reason she's here." Terris grumbled and Zula felt a twitch in her shoulder. Her tail would have lashed once now and one of her wings would have twitched. Another dragon would have recognized the signs that she was seriously getting pissed off now and would have dropped the topic. People weren't like that, they didn't take nonverbal cues very well. Sometimes Zula had to get all in their face to get them to back off. Or she ended up starting a fight, involuntarily most of the time, not that anyone believed her.

"Come on." Varric said, head slightly tilted as he looked at her. "Let's give grumpypants over there some space."

Zula followed Varric a bit further to the side of the walking people. She was glad enough to be away from the soldier, who didn't like her for some reason. Or maybe she had done the staring thing again and offended him or something. Zula genuinely didn't know, being human was fucking hard. And, if she was honest, people still unsettled her. She couldn't help but always keep an eye out. Most of her life she had been hunted by people and that distrust and wariness wasn't easy to lose. Not that she should lose it. Once she was a dragon again, things would go back to status quo. The current situation made her tense and stressed, so Zula was probably a bit more prickly than she would usually be.

"What do you need a mage for?" Varric asked. He smelled of campfires and ice like everyone else, but underneath it, she noticed a hint of ink and parchment, mingled with something that reminded her of the scented oils Ellion and his wife had used sometimes. Zula mulled over her answer for a moment. She couldn't very well tell him the truth and he seemed nice so far, so she didn't want to be rude either.

"I got hurt by mages a little while ago." She decided to answer. "So I wanted to ask how to deal with that."

Varric hummed and Zula couldn't tell if he believed her or not, but she had stuck to a half truth with her answer, so she hoped he would accept it.

"Well, once everyone is settled in and things have calmed down, I'm sure one of the mages will help you. Or you can ask a templar, they have experience with fighting mages." Varric said and Zula tilted her head.

"Templars?" She asked. Ellion had mentioned them a few times before, in connection with mages and circles, but she hadn't been overly interested in asking about them before. Now though, she kind of wanted to just keep the conversation going and at the same time, she wondered if Templars might not be able to help too after all.

Varric, after a brief moment of confusion, seemed to understand that she had little idea what he talked about. Zula found herself surprised when the dwarf started to explain things to her. His voice was pleasant and nice to listen to and Zula found her tense shoulders relaxing a bit the longer they spoke with each other. He had a way with words that could paint pictures while he described something and Zula secretly was glad that he had approached her. This was the most pleasant and informative conversation she had had after stumbling her way into the Inquisition.

Skyhold, when it finally loomed into view, was impressive, though it also looked kind of worn down. Varric hummed slightly as he observed the fortress.

"I'm surprised there is no dragon here." He murmured. "They like remote places for nesting and especially abandoned places or ruins."

Zula shook her head. "It's too small. There is no space to really sleep, even if someone were to rid down walls and hollow it out and it doesn't really provide much cover or protection. If a dragon were here, they would nest farther up in one of the high mountains." There was no dragon around though, Zula neither heard nor smelled anything.  
Varric glanced at her. "You seem to know a bit about dragons."

Zula huffed a soft noise that was half wry amusement and half a sigh. "You could say that." If anything, out of all the people currently present, she knew everything about dragons. She wasn't entirely sure where exactly Skyhold was location wise, without aerial view, but if it was vaguely in the area that she suspected the fortress to be in, this wasn't a popular spot for dragons. Mostly because there were no good places for dens and food was very scarce. That and the danger of avalanches.

Everyone moved quicker from there on. The sight of a new place to call home, however temporary it might be, made people move faster and with renewed vigor. Soon enough, the leftover army began to set up camp at the foot of the fortress, while others milled inside it. Zula followed the people heading in, mostly because she sure as fuck didn't want to become a soldier and partly because she was curious what the place looked like.

Skyhold smelled strong and old, though the scent was soon overpowered by the smell of all the people and the wounded that were set up in tents. Zula could already smell infections in two of them, though the injured seemed to be tended to well enough. Whether or not they would survive, she couldn't tell.

"You, over there!" Someone called out and it took Zula a second to realize that she was meant. The Inquisition soldier who had yelled waved her over. "Help us set everything up!"

Zula headed over to him. At least this way everything should be settled sooner and then she would finally be able to talk to a mage, right? By the sun, she hoped so, she was more than ready to return to her life and to being a dragon again.


	2. Friendship and Sweet Nights

Zula was pretty sure that she was going stir-crazy. She had narrowly avoided becoming one of the Inquisition soldiers, but she was tasked with helping out a lot and to take over the occasional guard duty. After all, according to people, if she wanted to stay and eat, she had to work. The mages had no time either, busy as they were and with all the still healing survivors and the fortress falling apart at the edges.

Zula helped out whenever she was called over and once the soldiers realized that she was strong, she was responsible for carrying large stones to shore up defenses and help fix what parts of the battlements had crumbled or been damaged in the past. It was a very slow going process, considering how much there was to do. Zula kept running into Terris and his friends with her work, who all took a strong dislike to her, courtesy of Terris. It didn't help that she was getting increasingly more frustrated with being ordered around as well. 

So, today, she had decided to escape into the one part of the fortress the soldiers were rarely found in. The library. She rather liked the smell of ink and paper and while the ravens caused a ruckus when she entered, they eventually quieted down. It was calmer and quieter here and while there were a handful of others present, there were far less people than down in the courtyard or in the halls.

Since she didn't want anyone to give her a reason to kick her out, Zula grabbed the first book she could, hopefully without looking weird and opened it at a random page. The writing still looked like squiggles to her. Leaning against a wall with the book lifted to shield her face, she took a long moment to just breathe. It was...a lot, being surrounded by all those people nearly the whole day. She was still getting used to that.

The training she had joined out of necessity and to build her skill with the blade hadn't even been fun the way they had been with Ellion. There were so many fighters in the Inquisition and people fighting around her still set her on edge and she had to work on pretending like it didn't bother her. At least she had found an abandoned room with a half collapsed roof to sleep in instead of having to bunk with a bunch of strangers. If anyone had noticed, they hadn't said anything about it yet.

Steps approached and halted before her and Zula resisted the urge to either sigh or smack her head back against the wall. She just wanted a few minutes of no one demanding anything and to get a breather.

"I don't mean to interrupt." A cultured voice spoke up and she reluctantly lowered the book to see a darker skinned man standing before her, facial hair meticulously groomed. He smelled nice, she noticed, clean and of soap and something slightly floral. There were shiny bits on his clothes, which drew her attention for a brief second. 

He gave her a smile that looked charming and confident, but something about it felt strangely practiced. He continued, "But I hope you are aware the book is upside down."

Zula stared down at the book and it's scribbles. She turned it around and the words still looked like wobbly inky lines that made no sense whatsoever.

"I can't read." She confessed with a sigh and closed the book.

The man lifted an eyebrow and briefly looked down at the book. "Well, I doubt a history book on ancient tevinter families is hardly beginner material." He lightly tilted his head to the side as he considered her. "If you're looking for something in particular, I'm certain one of the people around here can help you."

"No, I just wanted to go somewhere quiet and less people-y." She frowned at the book. The man gestured at it.

"Would you mind terribly if I borrowed that? I'm conducting some research and it might be useful." He asked and she held out the book. He gave her a smile that looked a bit realer than the previous one. "Thank you. I'm Dorian Pavus, I hope you find some peace here, people sure don't read enough if you ask me."

"Zula." She introduced herself in return and watched as he took a few steps to the side to set the book down among a stack of others on a table in an alcove. She hesitated, but decided to just ask. The soldiers always shooed others away if they lingered without having something to do and she didn't want to leave yet. "Can I sit? I promise to be quiet."

Dorian looked surprised, before he shrugged. "Suit yourself. Though I will ask you to leave if you end up becoming distracting."

"That's fair." Zula sat down across from him and shifted until she was comfortably leaning into the corner. The window beside them let in a good amount of light and after one last glance, Dorian pulled a book closer and opened it. 

Quiet descended, only disrupted by the turning of pages and occasionally the scratch of the quill on parchment, whenever Dorian wrote something down. For the first time since she ended up with the Inquisition, Zula could sit still and just stare. Her shoulders slowly relaxed until she exhaled softly and rested her chin on her pulled up knee. Dorian looked mostly absorbed in his work, though she was pretty certain he never truly lost track of the people around him.

And as weird as it sounded and as overwhelmed as Zula was with all the people everywhere, she was also becoming kind of lonely. She had no friends in this place, rarely even managed to hold longer conversations and it weighted on her. As much as she didn't particularly want to befriend people, she found herself craving company. And Dorian seemed alright, so Zula hoped he really didn't mind her sitting there.

Zula rather quickly noticed the looks people threw Dorian. Mistrustful at best and some outright disdainful at worst, though she couldn't possibly fathom why. Zula began to frown and at one point, scowl back at them. What was their problem? They looked at Dorian as though he was either far beneath them or something distasteful.

"Ignore them." Dorian spoke up without lifting his head and Zula blinked in surprise, returning her attention to him. "It isn't worth the trouble, as long as all they do is look."

"What's their problem?" She asked and found that she actually felt kind of pissed off on his behalf. Dorian had been nice to her so far, certainly far nicer than a couple of other people she had met before. And he definitely smelled a whole lot better than most people in the fortress did.

Dorian looked up just long enough to give her a wry, humorless smile and a flippant gesture. "Oh, who knows, they probably think I'm planning to steal all their blood for rituals or that I'll kidnap and eat their children." He sorted through his notes and set the book aside he just finished. "They're always so terribly predictable."

Zula gave him a disbelieving stare. "What absolute nonsense is that, do people _do_ that?"

Dorian glanced at her and the artificial amusement on his face shifted towards solemn seriousness. "Yes, some despicable excuses for human beings can be quite vile."

"But you aren't." Zula said, certain because he didn't smell like blood or raw flesh. If one thing could cling to people, it was the scent of death and Dorian just smelled...clean, of soap and scented oils. "And there are no children around to take, so that's just idiotic."

Dorian looked surprised and then chuckled quietly. "You are quite right, I've never understood that particular rumor myself."

"People," Zula said with all the grave exasperation she currently felt, "Are idiots."

This time, Dorian laughed for a second and there was a flash of true mirth in his eyes. "Quite right, but let's not blame them. It's a pity their minds are so narrow."

Zula huffed softly, half agreeing and still half exasperated. She glanced up and saw someone staring over at them. Maybe she started to understand why people hated it when she did the staring thing.

"They ever give you any trouble?" Zula found herself asking and Dorian waved her off.

"Nothing I can't handle, I assure you. I'm quite adept at taking care of fools." He lightly wriggled his fingers in the direction of the suspicious library visitors. Zula glared at them and they quickly looked away, shuffling a few steps to the side. Unexpectedly, she felt a rush of satisfaction at the reaction.

Zula settled back in and Dorian started on his next book, a small furrow of concentration between his brows. No one approached them and it even looked as though people were actively avoiding to get closer. Zula glared at people a few more times, until the ones staring got the hint and busied themselves with other things. Weirdly enough, Zula felt a bit as though she was being useful and she hoped it was a good repayment for Dorian sharing his study corner with her. If this was his space, he was giving her a great honor in allowing her to hang around. At least that's how it was among dragons. The least she could do was get some morons to mind their own business. 

"You have an unusual amount of patience." Dorian remarked when he looked up at one point and found her still sitting there. He gave her a slightly puzzled look. "I don't think I have ever seen someone sit so still for so long."

Zula gave him a shrug and a careful look. She was tired of people telling her how weird and strange she was, or even berating her for not behaving in a way they preferred or considered normal. She tried, she really did, to not act that way, but it was a fine line to walk between pretending to be human and still being herself. She hadn't really found a good balance yet.

Dorian watched her for a split second longer and waved his hand. "Not that I mind, it's just curious."

"I've always been good at it." Zula answered. All dragons were good at lying around for stretches of time or watching things they found interesting. She couldn't help the way her face twisted briefly as she continued, "Everyone thinks it's weird."

"It's certainly unusual." Dorian leaned one arm on the desk. "But I can't say I mind."  


He gave her a brief smile and turned back to his studies once more. Zula hid out in the library until it started to get dark, enjoying the quiet and the few conversations with Dorian in-between his reading. Dorian only got up in order to get more books or to put some back, but otherwise he was searching for information and collecting it on his papers. What he researched, Zula didn't know and she wondered if someone in the fortress might be able to teach her how to read. It seemed like a necessary skill the more she thought about it. It certainly would help her read the damned maps.

Candles were lit by the time Dorian closed his current book with a decisive movement. There were only two other people still present and even the ravens had settled down for sleep.

"I think I'm done for today." Dorian said and got up. He paused briefly to stretch out and Zula got to her feet as well. She rolled her shoulders and stretched briefly too, feeling satisfied at the way a small pop traveled down her spine. Dorian glanced at her, seemingly considering, before speaking, "I'm famished, how about you?"

Zula hadn't eaten more than once a week as a dragon, but with her new body, she had realized she had to eat a lot more than before. Still not as much as other people had to, but she had to eat at least once a day, twice if possible. She felt the pinch in her stomach that let her know she would get hungry soon.

"Yeah, me too." She watched as Dorian collected his research but left the books where they were. Since he had been kind enough to allow her in his presence and to hide beside his research, she offered, "Want me to put the books away?"

Dorian glanced up and tucked his notes under his arm. "No, thank you. They usually leave my research alone, no one wants to mess with the evil vint after all, you know?"

"What's a vint?" Zula asked. She had heard the term once or twice before in passing, but never from someone she had wanted to ask for an explanation.

This time Dorian paused in clearly visible surprise. He eyed her as though to make sure she wasn't jesting and then frowned slightly. "You're not joking. Vint is short for tevinter. That's where I'm from and what they call me."

Her nose wrinkled in further confusion. "But your name is Dorian."

He blinked and to her surprise, chuckled briefly. It wasn't really humorous though. "Quite true, but people rarely care for that as long as they can slight you in other ways."

A rough, frustrated exhale escaped her. Oh, she knew all about that, thanks to Terris and his friends. "Yeah, they do."

She apparently sounded aggrieved enough, that she managed to tease a genuine smile from Dorian. They started walking, leaving the library together.

"I take it people give you trouble as well?" He asked.

She sighed. "I don't understand what they want from me half the time and then I end up making someone angry. I'm not that good at the people-y stuff."

"Differences in culture?" Dorian guessed and Zula nodded. That description was close enough to the truth. "Don't worry, you'll get used to how things are done around here soon enough."

She really hoped he was right. Zula ended up following Dorian, who briefly stopped by a room to leave his research behind, before they headed towards the Herald's Rest. She felt herself secretly relieved that he didn't immediately usher her off. Maybe that meant she could drop by the library again? He seemed like good company so far. She would like for someone to not hate her, or to be on friendly terms with her. Most people were civil enough, but that didn't extend itself to riveting or interesting conversations or even shared meals. Zula missed talking with someone. Really talking, not just politely saying hello or discussing the weather. Which was another weird thing people did. Why talk about the weather when one could just look outside or up at the sky? Though, then again, a lot of people weren't good at reading the weather or smelling coming storms or rain on the winds.

Zula hadn't eaten inside the tavern before. The barkeeper, Cabot, knew her well enough by now to let her pick up her food and eat elsewhere. She always returned the bowls and cutlery without so much as an extra chink or scratch on them. Cabot usually let her grab whatever food was available when her stomach reminded her to eat and merely grunted a gruff but not unkind hello at her. 

"Sparkler!" The voice of Varric drew their attention as soon as they stepped into the Herald's Rest. Looking over, Zula spotted the dwarf sitting at the back by a big table. Or rather, a few smaller tables pushed together to make a big one. A couple of other people sat there as well, among them a rather large qunari with wide horns and an eye patch. 

Zula just barely resisted the urge to scent the air. For one, there were a lot of smells in the tavern and picking out the scents of the strangers would take her a second longer and two, she was trying to not be obviously weird. And people didn't really scent things, at least not that Zula had noticed.

Dorian headed over towards the table and Zula decided to go her own way from here. That was a group of people she mostly didn't know and she still needed some more space from crowds. All those people in Skyhold all the time...it was a lot, especially since Zula had lived alone before and the only way for her to have company had been if she had visited a dragon or a dragon had visited her. Dorian alone had been more than alright, but she didn't feel like dealing with a group tonight.

Dorian glanced back, mouth opening as though to say something, until Zula saw a quick flash of something across his face. He lightly tipped his head in a parting gesture and gave her a brief smile, before heading over to the group and returning Varric's greeting.

Zula grabbed some food from Cabot, who gruffly wished her a good evening, a sentiment which she returned. They got along alright. He seemed to appreciate that she was blunt and to the point and she liked that he didn't seem to mind her fumbling with social etiquette. Taking the bread and bowl of stew with thanks, Zula left again. She had to admit, one thing she started to seriously appreciate about being a person was the food. It was just amazing. There were so many flavors and dishes and even simple rations tasted a whole lot more interesting than half the food Zula had eaten in her life. There were only so many flavors raw meat had. Or charred meat, which wasn't her favorite at all and which she had ended up eating if she hadn't been careful enough with her fire.

Eating in the room with the broken ceiling and rubble and debris lying around that she had unofficially claimed as hers, Zula tried not to think about how much she missed her wings. Or how worried she still was about the tiny ember her flames had become and that it might just go poof one day and vanish. Worst of all, after all these weeks as a person, she was starting to get used to this existence. Begrudgingly and she had no other choice, but it secretly unsettled her.

Soon, she reminded herself. Soon Skyhold should be fixed enough that at least one mage should have time for her. Until then, she just had to do her best to not get into trouble.

~*~

Commander Cullen stared at them, face stern and gaze hard. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he excused the Inquisition soldier who had brought them to him. Cullen cut an impressive figure, with his broad shoulders, made broader by the fur and the whole, strong solidness of his body. Zula had only ever seen him afar before, when he watched over training and spoke with those instructing and teaching the soldiers. His gleaming armor and thick fur and blond hair usually caught her attention first and tended to hold it for a second too.

Zula felt a throb in her cheek and she was sure a bruise was already forming. As strange as it sounded, Cullen smelled warm. Warm and clean, with a hint of elderflower and something else. A strange, subtle smell that also came from one of the drawers of his desk. It smelled a little like some of the mages she had fought in the past and yet it wasn't really the same. Zula could swear there was also some kind of very, very subtle humming coming from the drawer, just barely audible to her.

At least she wasn't the only one standing before Cullen and she drew a small amount of satisfaction knowing Terris beside her had a face just as bruised as hers. The whole argument with him had gone out of hand, Zula could admit that much. At the same time she was too frustrated by his continued needling and insulting and she hadn't wanted to silently take any more of that. No self respecting dragon would have kept their mouth shut for this long. Zula had only done nothing until this point, because she was kind of worried about getting kicked out of the Inquisition.

The Inquisition soldier, who had happened upon their fight and gotten between them before taking them to Cullen, left and closed the door quietly behind herself. Cullen uncrossed his arms and leaned his hands on his desk, pinning them with a sharp look. 

"Now, explain to me why you two were fighting." He sounded commanding and hard, but not harsh or unkind. Zula stole a glance at his fur despite herself. It just looked so soft. And his armor was _shiny_. 

"She started it." Terris blurted out and she shot a sharp look at him. Her teeth were bared before she could stop herself, though she could hold back a snarl at the last moment. Swallowing her anger back down for the umpteenth time, she forced her face back into a little less aggressive expression. People didn't like bared teeth, for all that they usually were rather bad at picking up on body language.

"Liar." She hissed out and took a step away from him.

Cullen slightly narrowed his eyes and straightened. "Enough. Let each other finish speaking, one after the other, tell me what happened." He nodded at her, to her slight surprise. "You, start."

"He was ordering me around." Zula said. "I was already helping and working and then he started calling me names." Terris inhaled sharply, ready to say something, but a look from Cullen silenced him. "We started arguing and he got in my face. I pushed him back and then he attacked."

Even now she couldn't help but feel indignant. Dragons rather rarely fought with each other. There were so few of them left these days that they were more used to aiding each other than causing fights. Sure, some dragons could be real assholes, but even they had a baseline of respect that they rarely toed over. Zula had learned a few people around Skyhold lacked something like that entirely. So when Terris had gotten in her face, all posturing and sneers, she had pushed him back to get him out of her space. And when he had lifted a fist, she had reacted without thinking. Well, in retrospect, he may not have intended to hit her, but she hadn't wanted to take any chances either.

Cullen frowned now and looked at Terris. "Now, you tell me what happened."

"She's always staring at us like some creep! I had enough of it and told her to focus on her work. She said she did, but she sounded really challenging and disrespectful, so I started reprimanding her and she didn't listen. Then she pushed me, looking ready to lunge and I reacted before she could."

But even as he spoke, his words were a little too hurried and Zula could see that Cullen didn't quite believe him. Grudgingly, she had to admit that Terris wasn't exactly wrong per se, as much as it galled her. She had tried not to stare as much, but it was hard not to when she still tried to understand how people acted and why they did some of the things they did. And yeah, her tone of voice had been terrible, but she hadn't cared, entirely too fed up with Terris.

"Did you insult her?" Cullen asked and Terris sputtered, before a stern look from Cullen had him nodding with gritted teeth. "And did you throw the first punch?"

"Yes, but, she started it!" Terris exclaimed and everything about Cullen suddenly became harsh and sharp. Well, at least Zula knew now that she had been right in suspecting Terris had intended to attack her.

"That doesn't excuse anything." Cullen said, voice as cutting as a well maintained sword. "We are the Inquisition, not road-side bandits. I will not have you behave that way. Either of you." He turned to Zula. "Did you show insubordination?"

She gave a grudging nod and then a small shrug. "Yes. I was tired of having him talk down to me."

Cullen considered her for a moment, before facing both of them again. "You'll both get away with a warning. Terris, I expect you to apologize and to clean the barracks for a month. If I hear anything like this happened again, there will be consequences." He pinned them both with a look. "Do not start a fight again."

Terris looked as though someone had forced him to eat stones. Still, he turned towards her and grit out an apology that managed to not drip with absolute distaste. Zula accepted it without much feeling, knowing very well that he didn't mean it, but she understood enough to know it was expected of her. Cullen dismissed them afterwards and Terris left with an angry huff that only she heard. Just like only she heard the very, very soft sigh from Cullen, as she headed towards the door.

Zula stopped for just a second to glance back. "Thank you." She said, because he had been fair and listened to both sides.

Cullen glanced at her and she caught the slight surprise he hid a moment later. He straightened back up. "Don't get in a fight again."

Zula felt a brief, wry smile on her face and nodded. She didn't promise him anything, considering her track record of putting her foot in her mouth or otherwise merrily walking right into topics she apparently should have known not to talk about. She turned back around and reached for the door.

Zula was planning to slink to the library and hide at Dorian's table if he was amenable, the way she had done a few more times over the past week and a half. Dorian at least didn't seem to mind her company and they had had a few interesting conversations.

"Got into trouble?" Varric's voice startled her when she left Cullen's office and she whirled around, not expecting for him to be right outside the door. His eyebrows rose in surprise for a moment.

"Easy there, Firebrand," He said and eyed her cheek, frowning slightly. "Someone give you trouble?"

She exhaled and gestured after Terris, who was striding away angrily. "He doesn't like me. I think he wanted a fight for days now." Zula hoped that would be it, though. She didn't need any useless fights. She just wanted to talk to a mage.

"Well, he looks just as bad as you, if that's any consolation." Varric said with a small pat to her arm. Zula almost startled at the touch. No one had really touched her in weeks. Shoves at her shoulder to get her to pay attention or to lift more rocks didn't really count. "Talk to Cullen if he keeps giving you trouble. Curly takes good care of the people under his command."

Zula wasn't really a soldier, but she decided to keep that in mind. It was weird to ask a third person to resolve the conflict, but if that was how people did it, she would have to listen. A sudden thought made her perk up a bit.

"Varric, I can't read, do you know where I can learn?" She asked him and his face turned considering.

Varric was quiet for a second, before giving her one of his usual, lopsided smiles. "You know what, Firebrand? If you want, I'll teach you."

"Really?" She couldn't help but be relieved. Varric, the few times she had spoken with him since their arrival, most in passing, had always been nice. "Thank you."

"No worries." He chuckled softly. "Come on then."

She followed him. "Why do you call me Firebrand?"

"I like to give people nicknames." Varric said as they headed over towards the main building of the fortress, Terris now out of sight. With any luck, she wouldn't see him for the rest of the day.

Zula considered it for a moment. "It isn't like calling someone a vint, is it?"

"What?" Varric looked surprised. "No, not at all. Well, unless you find it degrading that I call you Firebrand."

"I don't." She answered. Zula had a vague idea what firebrand meant, and had to concede that it wasn't exactly wrong. She was still tense most of the time and it was startlingly easy to get into arguments with all the misunderstandings and her missteps in etiquette and people behavior. Add to that the fact that she didn't back down from a confrontation and a situation like today happened. It was probably pure luck that she hadn't gotten into a real fight until today.

Zula followed Varric to the main hall, from where he led her to a short hallway and a room towards the back of the stronghold. It wasn't his bedroom, since there was no bed, but it smelled strongly enough of Varric that he must spent a good amount of time in there. It had a desk and chairs in it, a warm rug and shelves with books and a few knickknacks.

"That's my office, Lavellan was nice enough to let me have one. I write here, occasionally, whenever inspiration strikes and only a handful of people bother me here. Take a seat." Varric explained.

She sat at the indicated chair and watched Varric root through his drawers. Zula was quickly set up with a piece of old, worn paper and some ink and learned the alphabet. Varric was patient and liked to joke and tell stories as he taught her writing. She had just learned to write her name and Varric's by the time someone dropped by.

The first thing Zula noticed about the newcomer was his massive hat. It made it hard to see his face. The second thing she noticed was that his steps were entirely silent and he smelled...half human and half otherworldly. She found herself staring at him, head tilted to the side, as she tried to figure out why his scent was like that, or who he was. He turned towards her, though he didn't look at her.

"Hey, kid." Varric said and there was a slightly softer and warmer quality to his voice. "Everything alright?"

"The anger that hides the fear lessens. This feels safe and the company is calming." The guy said, voice soft and slightly melodic, but with an undertone of pain in his words. "Everything feels wrong, but this helps. It's quieter and calmer and not too much. This is better."

Varric didn't look at her, but Zula got the strange impression that his attention still focused on her briefly. Zula herself was staring at the guy with the hat. That kind of sounded like her emotions and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. Could he sense what others felt? Zula had never known anything like that could be possible.

"Firebrand, meet Cole." Varric said after a beat of silence. "Kid, this is Zula."

"Nice to meet you." Zula said, her head tilted curiously, while at the same time, she felt wary about Cole.

Cole didn't look at her, but his head was still turned towards her. "Hello."

"Can you feel what I feel?" Zula asked, unwilling to keep her curiosity to herself. Varric had answered all her questions so far and Cole definitely was a curious person. She certainly hadn't meet someone quite like him.

"I can." Cole said, though there was a slightly hesitant quality to the last word. "But not clearly. It's like there is something muffling you."

Zula thought back on the magic that had made her into a person and wondered if that was the reason. It gave her a strange lurch of hope too. Because if the magic could still be felt, that meant it was there, that meant it could be _removed_.

"We're practicing writing." Varric said and gave Cole a smile. "You're welcome to stay, if you want."

Cole did stay, to Zula's slight surprise. He perched on the edge of the desk and watched, occasionally speaking softly with Varric. He was quiet and Zula didn't mind the way his eyes followed the lines of letters she copied from Varric or when her hand moved to dip her quill into the ink. His scent was pleasant, even with how otherworldly it seemed. She decided that Cole smelled the third nicest, after Dorian and Cullen and slightly before Varric, who usually smelled clean and sometimes of ink.

It was nice, it was relaxing and calming in a way only sitting besides Dorian's research had been so far. When Varric offered for her to come back tomorrow to continue the lesson, Zula found herself smiling and agreeing.

"There we go." Varric said with a crooked grin of his own and a small pat against her arm. "Don't worry Firebrand, things will be alright."

And the truth was? Zula found herself wanting to believe him.

~*~

Things did not, in fact, get better with Terris. But he was at least a little more wary now, after she had left the right side of his face bruised. And as much as she started to like Dorian and Varric and got used to Cole's presence whenever he showed up, she still wasn't fond of people in general. 

One day, though, as she was done lifting around rocks and helping rebuild one of the collapsed walls, she realized that she was starting to build a life here. Slowly but surely, over the weeks after arriving at Stronghold and working on fixing the fortress up bit by bit, while the wounded soldiers healed from the battle at Haven, she had somehow settled in. She had a room no one had taken yet, she had people she enjoyed spending time with and the food drew her unerringly into the Herald's Rest every evening.

Terris still scowled and sneered at her and muttered insults under his breath, but so far, he hadn't come within reach of her again. Which was kind of satisfying. The rest she tried to ignore and she always finished her work as quickly as she could, before skulking off.

Zula's writing and reading had also improved with every lesson to the point where Varric had picked out a few short, simple stories for her to read. Which was really kind of him and Zula carefully kept the parchments safe. Varric might not have realized it, but she couldn't help but see the small stories as treasures. Dragons liked giving gifts to friends and what members of their families were still alive. Zula had always carefully hoarded and watched over gifts - as long as the gift hadn't been food - and now she found herself doing the same with the stories Varric gave her.

It brought a sense of relief to finally start to hoard again, no matter how pitiful it looked or that she wasn't anywhere near her den. It calmed an instinct she hadn't quite realized had been a constant itch in the back of her head. 

The thought of seeing Varric or Dorian as friends, however, made her anxious. She hadn't expected to like anyone enough to, well, form attachments. This was a really bad idea. It had been easier not to get attached to the rangers, especially when she had been on edge the whole time. Zula had relaxed a bit since coming to Skyhold, but genuinely liking people was a terrible idea. She would get turned back into a dragon hopefully soon, and then what? She felt sick at the thought of getting attacked by the very people whose company she enjoyed now.

Zula tried not to think about it. It probably wasn't the best way to cope with her worries, but what other choice did she have? At the same time, she found herself growing more and more restless. She wasn't used to being cooped up like this all the time and her thoughts were growing ever louder. 

Zula had seen Lavellan a couple of times from afar since their arrival, but the woman always looked as though she was hurrying from place to place, doing her best to work on every problem that ended on her plate. Zula kind of felt sorry for her. Having to care for all those people and shouldering all those troubles would be nightmarish for Zula, she couldn't even begin to imagine how Lavellan dealt with it. 

Zula had found out that Lavellan was a mage, but asking the woman for help was definitely off the table, she was already swamped with things to do. Zula's salvation, in a way, came in the form of Varric and another dwarf called Scout Harding.

"Zula's no Inquisition soldier, not really." Varric said after introducing them to each other. "But she's been recommended by rangers up north, so she could help the scouts." He turned to Zula with one of his crooked smiles. "And you can get away from Skyhold for a little while."

Zula hesitated only for a second. On one hand, she still needed to talk to a mage, but everyone was very busy, so she probably could leave and come back when things were a little calmer and organized. Maybe it would even help her clear her head and stay focused on her goal. It certainly would take her away from Terris and his weird hate-grudge too.

"Yes." She decided. "I would like to join you, please." Politeness was important after all, especially if she hoped for Harding to take her along.

Scout Harding grilled her on her skills and after a bit of consideration, decided to take her along on a trial run. When Zula finally left the fortress with the scouts and Harding, she felt as though the world around her opened back up, even if it was just a snow covered mountain range. Being out and about felt miles better compared to being cooped up day in and day out with few ways to escape.

When they arrived at Crestwood, Zula found out that she was good at helping the scouts. While her fighting skills had improved somewhat with the sparring in Skyhold, her senses were of far better use out in the wild. She heard and smelled dangers and people before the others noticed them and with Ellion's lessons, she was good enough at stealth to not give the scouts away.

Crestwood wasn't a particularly nice area, but Zula still enjoyed the bad weather and all the smells and the wind and just, nature. The walking corpses and demons were new for her and less welcome, but the scouts taught her how to could handle it. Zula liked searching areas and tracking threats and sitting at camp, watching the others go about their business. The scouts thankfully rarely took offense when she observed them. One of the scouts even helped her adjust her weapon's belt so she could wear her sword on her back, which made things far easier for Zula. Climbing certainly was less of a hassle when she didn't have to pay attention to her weapon dangling beside her leg.

"Good job." Harding said with a smile when they finished establishing the camp and waited for Lavellan and her companions to join them within the next few days. Zula found herself smiling. Harding gave her arm a small nudge. "You're welcome to join us on more missions if you want to."

Zula had to thank Varric the next time she saw him. This had been the best idea. Lavellan arrived and left while Zula was out scouting. Apparently, she had Dorian and someone called Sera and The Iron Bull with her. Zula wondered what kind of fighter Dorian was.

With a sudden, sharp pang, Zula missed Tyra and her other friends. She wondered if her mother had heard about everything by now. Oh by the sun, she hoped her mother wouldn't find out what had happened for months to come. Zula was beginning to understand that turning back into a dragon wouldn't be a quick fix, at least getting a mage who had time wasn't, and the last thing she needed was her mother flying down to rain ice and rage on any person within range. Her mother would probably snatch her up and take her back to the den Zula had grown up in, to keep her safe. Which would just be all around inconvenient. And far too fucking cold.

"I'll head back to Skyhold once the Inquisitor has the next camp here established." Harding said once Zula was back in camp. "You're welcome to head back with me and a few of the other scouts."

It probably would be a good idea to leave, even if Zula was a bit reluctant to go back to Skyhold and the tasks waiting there. At least the journey back would take them a long couple of days. Zula tilted her head slightly, listening, but no danger was in the area and the wind and rain chased away the last traces of scents from Lavellan and the others.  
The next day, as Zula practiced her letters by drawing them in the mud with a stick, she suddenly heard the roar of a dragon. Jumping to her feet, she felt her heart race with excitement. Zula scanned the sky, but the weather was too bad to see anything. The roar had been unmistakable though. A warning sound to let others know this territory was already claimed and would be defended. For a second, elation built high and a low, thrilled rumble thrummed in Zula's chest, until the rumble suddenly cut off as her heart iced over. A dragon and a lot of people were in the same area. _Fighters_ were in the area.

With a start, Zula realized that she didn't know if Lavellan and the others were in the habit of hunting dragons. She didn't know how powerful they were either, but they were all clearly used to battle and they were part of the Inquisition. She knew that Dorian was very smart and Lavellan had proven to survive a large battle and an avalanche and who knew what Sera and The Iron Bull were capable of.

Without conscious thought, she was running away from camp, the sword slapping against lower back with every large stride. The scouts hadn't noticed her leaving, since she had been at the fringes of the camp and on a break. Zula severely cursed the fact that she had no wings and horses hated her and ran faster. She didn't know where Lavellan and the others were or if other people would go hunt the dragon immediately, but she had to do something. What, she didn't know, but she could at least try and reach her fellow dragon first.

She was heavily out of breath, body aching and clothes soaked through with mud clinging to her in all sorts of places, when she finally picked up sounds from the dragon again and smelled it on the wind. It was still a good bit away, but with renewed vigor, she raced further. Then, finally, ruins came into view and there, in a nice spot in the middle, she saw the dragon. Her scale color ranged from sandy red to slightly purplish red and she looked huge. Which was partly because Zula was currently, comparatively, tiny.

For the first time in weeks, Zula spoke the language of dragons again as she yelled for the one curled up in the ruins. A head with wide horns snapped up and Zula saw the dragon's attention zero in on her. The dragon was clearly surprised and already half aggressive, but their shared language made her pause. Thankfully, since Zula stood absolutely _no_ chance against her fellow dragons right now. She'd be squashed like a bug in a fight.

"I'm Zula!" Zula shouted. She hadn't met that dragon before, but she hoped her name and circumstances had spread amongst her kind, at least a little. Enough for this one to have heard of her. Considering the way the dragon slightly reared back in surprise, she had heard.

"Are you being hunted?" The dragon asked, voice rumbling with anger as she got to her feet. 

The dragon stepped towards her and Zula finally slowed down, breathing heavily and body aching all over. She had never run that much ever, not once in her life. Dragons weren't runners, but people were, and Zula definitely wasn't used to it. A wing rustled and the rain stopped falling on her. Zula looked up to see the dragon shielding her from the rain, wing slightly extended but dipped down at the end in a show of calmness.

"I'm alright." Zula wheezed out and took a deep breath. Her heart was still racing. "But listen, please. People might show up."

The dragon's lips curled back in a soundless snarl, showing off her teeth. Oh, how Zula missed her teeth. And her wings. Fuck, she'd give a hand and an eye to fly just once more.  
"I can take them." The dragon rumbled, a threatening growl accompanying her words. "And you will remain unharmed, worry not. You are welcome in my den and I offer you protection and sanctuary."

The dragon wouldn't just leave, Zula realized. And more than that, Zula knew that no one here could die. Not the dragon and especially not Lavellan, who was so important for keeping the mages in Skyhold and for all that other business that was going on with the tear in the sky and whatnot. That and...Zula had to admit she liked a couple of people in Skyhold, certainly liked Dorian and she did not want him to maybe get killed.

"They can't die." Zula found herself spitting out. "I need the Inquisitor, I need a mage to help me undo this." She gestured at all of herself. "They can't die and you can't die."

The dragon stood frozen and Zula near felt her indecision. Then the dragon sighed. She sounded and looked unhappy, tail flicking harshly but not lashing and the curl of her lips further spoke of her distaste.

"Fine." The dragon rumbled, sounding frustrated but then she glanced down at Zula. "They woke me up with all that noise they made. I'll leave, go visit my sister and come back at a later time to see what they've done or if they've left. But if they try to take my den, I will defend it."

Zula exhaled, the sudden rush of relief and gratitude sapping the last of her strength. She almost sagged to the ground and the dragon rumbled a concerned tone and tucked the wing a bit closer around her.

"Thank you." Zula tilted her head and the dragon lowered hers, so they could slightly bump against each other. What normally would have been a horn bump of friendliness, ended with Zula unexpectedly shoved into the mud and the dragon blinking in surprise. Zula waved a hand, her head aching a bit from the impact. Her fellow dragons really had to be gentle with her. "I'm fine."

The dragon glanced at her, at the weather and then back at her, suddenly appearing doubtful. "You'll be alright?"

"Yeah." Zula gave her a smile and stood back up. "Don't worry about me. Stay safe."

"You as well. And feel free to let me know when you catch the mages who did this." The dragon's lips curled in a nasty smile and her voice turned to a deep, menacing growl. "I will gladly assist you in ripping them to pieces."

"If the opportunity presents itself, I'll let you know." Zula promised, though she doubted it. If she met those mages again and especially their leader, she probably would end up in an immediate fight, without a chance to call for more backup.

With a last nod, the dragon straightened and with a strong push and powerful beat of her wings, she soared back into the sky. Zula found herself knocked into the mud once again, this time from the strong gust of wind and she stared up at the cloud-dark sky. A relieved laugh chocked out of her and she covered her face with her hands, taking deep breaths. Neither the dragon nor Lavellan and her companions would have to die, should they have tried to track down the dragon.

Everything would be alright now and everyone would be safe. And if Zula ached at watching the dragon fly, if she suddenly felt torn between wishing being able to leave without looking back and checking in on the friends she had made, no one had to know. No one but her heart and herself.

~*~

"I heard your first scouting mission went well, aside from that stint at the end." Varric's slightly amused voice caused Zula to look up from where she had finished helping out with the continued repairs of the fortress. She had barely been back an hour when some soldiers had already snatched her up for some heavy lifting. At this point, Zula was getting really good at building walls.

"I got lost in the storm." Zula said and she remembered Harding's relief and her stern scolding after Zula had dragged herself back to camp. She had been gone long enough, that scouts had already been sent out on a search party. Zula had felt chagrinned despite herself. She hadn't really expected Harding to care about what would happen to her, but the woman had proven to be kind and clear headed, with a good heart. Varric must have spoken with Harding, if he already knew about it.

"I heard as much." He said and waved her with him. "How was it, getting out?"

She gave him a smile. "Thank you, Varric, for speaking with Harding. I needed that."

He chuckled softly and gave her arm a pat. "Don't mention it, Firebrand. It's good to see you looking more relaxed. So, how's it been?"

Zula found herself recounting everything she had seen and experienced in Crestwood. Furthermore, she could ask him all the questions that had accumulated and which she hadn't felt comfortable asking the scouts or Harding. Most people just looked weirdly at her when she asked about stuff they thought was common knowledge or very obvious. Varric wasn't like that, thankfully. No matter what question, he always explained things so she understood.

"Varric?" She asked when they later sat in his study and he gave her one of the books he owned to practice her reading. "Do you think the mages have time soon?"

He looked up. "I think you can ask them, yes. The last of the wounded have recovered and they should have settled in by now. The mages mainly work for the Inquisition of course, but depending on what you want, they can work on it on the side."

Zula perked up, excitement rushing through her. "Can I ask now?"

Varric chuckled. "Go on, Firebrand. Look in the library first, there are always two or three mages there and if they don't have time, they can send you to a mage who does."

"Thanks, Varric." With a smile, she gave him back his book, before she hurried out of his office. The mages had time! Finally!

Zula walked through the main hall, a short hallway and past the bald elf in the round room, who only looked up briefly before focusing on his work again. Zula hadn't spoken with him yet, every time she saw him, he seemed engrossed with or very focused on something. Even if she was really interested in how he painted the walls, she hadn't asked yet, since she didn't want to be rude and intrude in what was obviously his space.

Taking the steps two at a time, she reached the library. For a moment it was strange not to immediately see Dorian, since he was still gone with the Inquisitor. They were said to return within the next week or two, though. Looking around, Zula had to ask two people, before she found the first mage.

"Are you a mage?" She asked the woman, who had braided blond hair and wore long robes. The woman looked her up and down and seemed to consider for a moment.

"I am, yes." She turned to her, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Defensive and cool. "Why do you ask?"

"I need a spell." Zula said quickly and the mage's demeanor changed slightly.

The woman raised an eyebrow and then scoffed softly. "Sorry, we're working for the Inquisition. That takes up all our time." She eyed Zula and after a quick glance to the side, lowered her voice. "Unless you can pay enough."

"What is enough?" Zula asked right away. She honestly didn't care. Whatever it was, she'd pay it if it meant she'd be herself again. She was getting too used to his body and to this life and she couldn't afford to stay too long like this. It scared her. Zula very carefully did not think about the fact that she had made friends here. The way the mage looked at her changed and Zula suddenly felt like bristling, though she couldn't really say why. Maybe because the woman's look was kind of hungry, in a very strange way. No, not hungry. Greedy.

"Ten thousand sovereign," The mage said.

It sounded as though she half thought Zula was never going to get that sum together and half hoped she would. In all honesty, Zula didn't even know what such a sum looked like. She had a rather wonky grasp on prices and what was worth what. Back with the rangers, she had just handed coin to Ellion who then got things and gave her the change back. She should ask Varric later. Zula hadn't used her money since paying for the ride to Haven and she took her purse from her belt. She carried it with her at all times after someone had tried to steal it back with the rangers and she had gotten scolded for clawing the thief's face bloody, instead of getting the guards. She opened it and presented what she had.

"Is that enough?" She asked.

The woman glanced inside and then scoffed again. "Not even nearly." She gave Zula a condescending look. "If it's too hard for you, just say so."

"No, I'll do it." Zula instinctively pulled her purse back. That was not enough gold? She thought back on the pile of gold in her den, but her island was so far away and she'd need to go find Tyra first to even get there. Just alone reaching Tyra's den would take weeks if not months, since her friend lived farther away and Zula didn't trust herself to find the way easily without aerial view. Maybe there were other ways to get the needed coin?

"Well, if you ever manage to get the money together, come find me." With those words the woman turned around, though she paused briefly. "Oh, and if you're not here to read, do leave."

She walked away, looking far too satisfied with this encounter, while Zula half frowned and half scowled at her back. If she was honest, she hadn't expected to be treated like that. Were all mages like this? Ugh.

Ignoring the woman's words, Zula spent a few minutes looking at the titles at the book spines. She felt quietly proud of herself when she managed to read a good number of them and recognized letters on others, even if she didn't know the words. Varric was a really good teacher.

Zula left the library with a spark of hope in her chest. She had found a mage and a mage had agreed to help, even if Zula had to get the coin first. It couldn't be too hard though, right? Soon, she told herself, the magic forced upon her would be undone and then she'd fly again. And if she purposefully didn't think of having to leave and never seeing some people here again, of maybe even getting chased away or hunted, that was her business. 

This was good news. Just ten thousand, surely she could get that much money together without much trouble.

~*~

Zula's path to the decrepit room she had chosen to sleep in took her past Cullen's office. Most nights, it was rather quiet. Sometimes she heard muffled voices through the closed door. The lights usually were still on when she passed by and sometimes Zula wondered if Cullen slept enough. He seemed to always be in his office, whenever he wasn't overseeing training or attended a meeting with the war council.

Tonight, the sky was clear and Cabot had given her one of the last baked sweets he had, grumbling something about her better taking it before everything was gone. Zula sat down on the battlements, legs dangling down the other side. There was a steep drop, the wall turning into a sheer cliff and finally ending in ice and snow far, far down below. She wasn't afraid of heights though, had never been and she tilted her head back to look up at the multitude of stars above. It was beautiful and peaceful and when she took a bite, she felt her whole face light up. Whatever sweet that was, it was _glorious_.

Zula suddenly really wanted to exchange her hoarded gold and things in her den for a mountain of sweets. It wouldn't work of course, since food rotted, but she liked the thought of being surrounded by the scent of warm baking and sweet sugar and honey.

She ate the last bite, just as the door to Cullen's office was suddenly roughly opened. It startled her badly enough that she jolted and found herself slipping from her perch, quickly grabbing onto the stone to avoid falling down the wrong side of the battlements. Her heart was racing now and she stared at Cullen, who stared back at her, his tense expression shifted to startled alarm. They both held still for a second, until Zula pulled herself securely onto her spot again and he seemed to exhale along with her. Alright, no fear of heights, but she really shouldn't fall. She had no wings now to catch her, after all.

"Pardon me." Cullen said and his voice was a strange mixture of concerned and still strained. His shoulders looked rigid, even with the fur covering them and the line of his jaw was tense. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." She didn't miss the way he carefully walked towards her, his gaze only briefly flicking away to gauge the drop on the other side.

"Would you mind getting down there?" Cullen asked. "It's rather dangerous."

Zula didn't quite agree with him, but swung her legs to the other side and Cullen's concern seemed to soften. He still didn't seem well, though. Had something happened?

"Are you alright?" Zula asked and got a tight smile that was closer to a grimace from Cullen.

"Yes, of course. What are you doing out here so late?" He stood beside her now, one hand resting on the battlements and Zula caught the way his fingers flexed slightly, the tips pressing against the stone. His other hand was in a fist at his side.

Lifting her head slightly, she inhaled before she could stop herself. Sometimes she could scent emotions, if they were particularly strong. And right now, Cullen smelled upset and, worryingly, as though he was in pain. He didn't smell of blood, though. Emotional hurt? Something else? She didn't know and didn't know him nearly enough to ask.

"It's a nice night and I was enjoying the stars," Zula answered and leaned back against the stone. To her slight surprise, she realized that she came up to Cullen's neck and had to tilt her head to look up at him. He hadn't looked that tall across the table, imposing and immovable yes, but not that big. With him pretty much standing beside her, it drove home the fact that he was really solidly built.

"Do you often sit in dangerous places?" Cullen asked and Zula found herself smiling wryly. Heights didn't register as particularly dangerous in her mind, not even after weeks as a human. She did understand Cullen's worry though and she did know that she could go _splat_ very fast and be very dead if she had fallen off the battlements.

"Sometimes." Zula admitted with a small shrug. For a moment, she was about to move on, since Cullen still was tense and something was going on, but he probably didn't want her there for whatever it was. Then she noticed the way he was focusing on her, as though it helped his mind to stay away from what had sent him out of his office.

"Have you ever been to Crestwood?" The question was out of her mouth before she could quite stop herself. A part of Zula wondered if it was a stupid thing to ask or if she was reading too much into the situation. Cullen probably wanted to be alone.

"No, I can't say I have." He said and settled against the battlement beside her. It was almost hesitantly too and a bit stiff and he crossed his arms loosely, clenched fists tucked under his arms and out of sight.

Zula launched into about scouting in Crestwood and everything she had seen there. Belatedly, she realized that Cullen was probably not as fascinated as she was at some of the things she had discovered, nor that he was as surprised about some stuff. She did make him quirk a wry smile when she talked about the whole weirdness of demons. He didn't interrupt her, though, unless to ask for clarifications. Slowly, almost achingly slowly as they talked, Zula watched his shoulders relax a bit, the tense line up his neck and jaw easing.

By the end, he was slowly adding in experiences of his own and recounts of places he had seen. He stopped smelling of pain and upset and Zula found something in her chest relaxing at that realization.

"You have a unique way of seeing things," He said to her surprise when she finished. Zula had left out the dragon in Crestwood, since she didn't feel like talking about her kind right now. Besides, she was sure Cullen had heard enough about that in his reports already.

His words made her pause a bit, though he didn't sound condescending or weirded out. If anything, he seemed curious.

Zula gave him a small smile. "I wasn't exactly raised like other people. There is a lot around here that's really new to me."

Cullen was silent for a second and his eyes were contemplative and his voice softer than before. Zula realized that his hands were no longer in fists and he had lowered his arms to rest his elbows on the battlement he leaned against.

"If you need any help, you can come to me anytime." He looked across Skyhold and then glanced up at the sky. The stars were still brilliant and bright.

Zula leaned her head back as well and found herself smiling. "It's beautiful, isn't it? There were few nights where I saw something like this before."

Cullen hummed softly, his breath misting in front of his face. "It's easy to forget, sometimes." He murmured.

Silence spread and Zula found that she didn't wish to break it. It felt strangely fragile and peaceful. Cullen once again smelled warm and slightly of sweet elderflower with an undertone that reminded her of the woods. Maybe he used some sort of scented oil that carried that scent? His breathing was calm and Zula was surprised to realize she felt relaxed, leaning against stone beside him.

The silence was broken when Cullen glanced back towards his office. "I shouldn't keep you up any longer."

"You didn't." Zula reassured him. "I enjoyed talking with you."

He looked slightly caught off guard at her blunt admission and Zula felt strangely pleased when she watched his face soften a tad. "Me as well. Good night, Zula." He took a step, stopped and glanced back and Zula saw the hint of a smile on his face. "It's good that you enjoyed your time with the scouts."

She found herself smiling happily. "I really did, Commander. Have a good night."

She watched him walk away, feeling strangely joyful. Turning away as well to head to bed, she found herself still smiling and she inhaled the smell of warmth and soft sweetness one last time. It really was such a pleasant scent.


	3. Pranks and Blood

Zula felt an unexpectedly strong spark of happiness when Lavellan returned and Dorian was back in Skyhold. She had ended up missing him a lot more than she had thought. Now that Zula had returned to the previous routine in Skyhold, she had found hidden in the library a couple of times, but it felt strangely empty and too quiet without Dorian there, to rustle with pages or mutter under his breath or talk with her from time to time. Varric was great company, of course, but he was rather busy too and he already helped her a lot with the reading lessons and she didn't want to end up bothering him.

Their horses were packed with his things and servants already rushed over to help the Inquisitor and her companions. Dorian still looked as put together as always and Zula now saw who Sera and The Iron Bull were. Sera was an elf woman with slightly unevenly cut hair and The Iron Bull was the impressive qunari from the tavern. They seemed in good spirits.

Zula lifted her arm, ready to wave at them and she froze when she realized she was smiling and her chest felt lighter. She felt actually happy to see Dorian back, unharmed and smirking at something Sera said. Oh. Oh no. That went beyond simply liking someone or enjoying Dorian's company or thinking him friendly. She was genuinely joyful to see him again. Him and Varric.

Her stomach lurched when she thought about what would happen in the future. No matter how long it took, she couldn't and wouldn't stay human. And what if Dorian and Varric hated her once she was a dragon? What if they and others decided to hunt her? She was lying to them, if she was entirely honest with herself. She was hiding who she truly was.

"Fuck." She whispered to herself, her arm lowering and she stared at the group and how Lavellan was swiftly whisked away by one of her inner circle, a pretty darker skinned lady with golden shimmering clothes that briefly captured Zula's attention despite herself. Sera and Dorian sauntered over to the Herald's Rest, while The Iron Bull broke off to greet a group of warriors who seemed happy to have him back. 

Zula dragged a hand over her face. No. No, it would be alright. She would just be careful from now on. She wouldn't deepen any friendships and try to not lie to those she started to...care about. As long as she could keep herself to seeing anyone here the way she saw Tyra, she would be fine. Because once she was ready to fight for them, ready to defend them and bring them gifts to cheer them up, once she invested herself and cared the way dragons did, she would be irreversibly fucked.

Zula still felt unsettled enough, that she voluntarily helped with repairing the keep further, to keep her mind off of the topic. Lugging heavy stones around and clearing debris away helped in letting her focus on moving and breathing right. There were still so many broken places in the fortress, it would take months and months to fix most of it, never mind the whole wall that had been partly collapsed at the back of the fortress.

In the end though, she found herself slinking off towards the Herald's Rest. For one, she was done with dealing with the soldiers, even if most of them were civil enough, but Terris and his friends were there and she couldn't stand them for too long. Terris was getting worse again too and she wondered if they'd end up in another fight again. And two, she was starting to get hungry.

To her surprise, Dorian was still there. He sat with Sera at the back of the tavern, by the pushed together tables, along with The Iron Bull and the group of warriors who had greeted the qunari. Zula had just grabbed her dinner from Cabot, when she heard her name. Looking up, she realized that Dorian was waving her over. Heading towards the table, Zula stopped and then took a seat when she was offered a crate to sit on by one of the warriors.

"Zula, meet the chargers, their leader The Iron Bull and Sera." Dorian said, gesturing at everyone at the table.

Sera, the elf with short cut, slightly uneven hair seemed curious, if somewhat brash. She actually reminded Zula of a dragon she had met in the south, smart and whip-quick and always on the move for the next treasure, the next high wind to ride up into the sky. There was a spark of the wild in Sera's eyes and her smiles showed an untamable, mischievous spirit.

The Iron Bull, who wasn't wearing a shirt or really any kind of discernible armor, gave her a nod, while his gaze was sharp. Something about it him felt...dangerous and keen. Watchful and as though nothing escaped his attention. He somehow felt old, not because he was physically old, but experience wise. Zula wasn't sure if it made her even warier or if she felt impressed. Possibly a bit of both.

The Iron Bull leaned forward and introduced his chargers, while Zula nodded at them in greeting. This close, it was far easier to properly catch how they smelled. The Iron Bull, as a qunari, had a distinct part to his scent that marked him as one of his people. Aside from that, he smelled of the road and leather and weapon oil. Sera carried a similar scent, though there was something fresh and citrusy, as though she liked to use a certain soap or oil.

"We were just talking about Crestwood." Sera said once he finished. She leaned back on her chair and balanced it on two legs without trouble. "And the dragon we saw there."

"You were with the scouts, right? Did you notice anything?" The Iron Bull asked and braced his forearms on the table. He sounded a mixture of wistful and disappointed. "It flew really close by, but later on there was no trace of it." Zula swallowed the bite she had just taken. The food felt heavy in her stomach and she hoped her face didn't give her away or ended up making a weird expression.

"I heard the roar." She said and did her best to try and appear sincere. "But with the weather I didn't see her fly."

The Iron Bull hummed, thoughtful and Krem leaned forward, curiosity on his face. "Weren't you the one who got Terris a bloody nose?"

Sera barked out a laugh. "Yeah, that was her. Well deserved, if you ask me. What a tosser. He's been an arsehole before."

Zula tilted her head and she felt a spark of quiet relief and, unexpectedly, companionship at Sera's words. It was nice that she wasn't the only one who wanted to shake Terris until some sense tumbled into his head. Or maybe chuck him over a wall into a mountain of snow.

Krem lifted his beer with a smirk. "Wanted to do that myself, but we're supposed to behave."

Conversation continued among the group and Zula took the chance to eat. She was still used to eating in big bites and swallowing quickly, but the food here was so tasty, she actively slowed down to try and enjoy it for a bit longer. Eating as a dragon had always been more about sustenance than the pleasure of flavor, but food here was just too good to treat the same way. That and she had burned her tongue before. Which somehow was one of the most bizarre experiences as a human. She had never burned the inside of her mouth before. Ever.

"If you ever want to get back at Terris, let me know." Sera offered suddenly, while The Iron Bull laughed at a joke he told and Dorian looked as though he tried to look exasperated, while the corners of his mouth twitched up. Seeing him like this, Zula couldn't help but wonder why he so often hid behind a practiced smile and his words and gestures. Someone must have hurt him for him to shield his heart so well.

She looked at Sera. "How do you mean? I can't start another fight."

Sera snorted. "There are way more things than starting fights." A lopsided grin appeared on her face. "Or rather, fights no one can pin on you."

Zula couldn't help but feel interested and curious. She would love to get back at Terris. "What are you thinking of?"

Sera's grin grew to something wicked and she let her chair drop back to four feet. "Come with me."

Zula got up after a second of hesitation and they said their goodbyes to the group, who wished them a good night. Sera waited just long enough for Zula to bring the bowl and spoon back to Cabot, before she was waved along. The room Sera brought her to smelled strongly of her and a tiny bit of flowers. Roses maybe? Zula still learned about what flower smelled like what. 

Looking around, she couldn't help but think that this was a den. A real den, with the collected pillows and trinkets everywhere. It was so strangely reassuring to finally see a proper den again, instead of the mostly bare rooms she had spotted before. She hovered at the entrance, ever careful of not stepping into someone's home without being asked in. 

"Take a seat." Sera said and Zula respectfully kept away from any and all trinkets as she sat down by the windows with Sera. Another's treasure was not to be touched unless specifically invited to do so. Generally, only family or the closest of friends were ever granted that kind of honor.

Sera then introduced her to the world of pranks. Oh, Zula had played pranks before, like dropping chunks of ice on Tyra and watch her jerk awake or smacking a large fish into another friend's face. She had often pranked her sister too, when she had been alive. Or had jostled and tripped her other sisters, back when they had been hatchlings and none of them had died yet. But Sera was creative and her ideas sounded _fun_. What was more, as a person, there were so many more options. So, so many options for pranks. It was amazing.

"Let's do it." Zula said, excitement making her smile. She hadn't been daring in a while, not since the change and with how much she struggled with figuring out how to behave as a person.

Sera laughed and got up with a small clap of her hands. Her eyes gleamed. "Alright, let me get everything and meet my by the barracks."

Minutes later, they snuck up along the roof and Zula let Sera know when everything was clear. They dangled from the roof and to reach the window below. They slipped inside and Zula both stood guard and gave Sera a hand here and there, as she set up the prank. Itching powder on Terris' breaches and Sera snickered softly when she found a dirty book beneath his pillow. At least she called it that, but it looked clean to Zula. A bit worn at the corners at most. Maybe this was another people-thing she didn't know anything about.

Sera cheekily pocketed the book and left a little drawing in its place. At last, they switched out his scented oils, which he liked to apply deliberately, with water and still warm cooking oil that Sera had stolen from the kitchen.

"Someone's coming!" Zula warned when she heard muffled steps heading up the stairs towards the room. 

Sera quickly headed back out the window, grabbing the ledge of the roof and pulling herself up. Zula followed her swiftly and they hurried off on quiet feet. As soon as they were far enough, they looked at each other and Sera broke out into barely muffled giggles, laughing until she was breathless. Zula found herself swept up in the good, jovial mood, delighted on the prank and getting back on Terris and she ended up laughing right along with Sera. They probably looked like right lunatics, crouching in a hidden corner and giggling helplessly.

"That." Sera said with a satisfied exhale. "Was so much fun. We have to do that again."

"Anytime." Zula promised and found she meant it. "I haven't laughed in weeks."

Sera snorted. "Now that's just sad. Come on, let's steal some cookies from the kitchen."

Zula perked up. She hadn't had cookies yet, whatever they were. "Lead the way."

Cookies, as it turned out, were incredibly delicious and Sera knew great roof-perches to sit on and eat their spoils.

The same night, as Zula quietly headed to her sleeping place with some more cookies, she noticed Cullen. He stood outside his office by the battlements, head lifted as though he was looking over the surrounding mountains, hands pressed against the stone. He hadn't noticed her and Zula threaded lighter. She had intended on just sneaking past him, when she thought back on the last time they had spoken. Maybe he wanted another distraction? 

Unsure if he wanted to be disturbed, she scuffed her feet over the stone, just loud enough to make a noticeable noise. Immediately, Cullen straightened and turned around. Zula was sure, without her eyesight, she wouldn't have noticed the quickly hidden surprise on his face. The shine of the moon overhead made him look a bit paler than he was and his hair got a silvery shine.

"Good evening, Zula." He said, back straight and fur slightly ruffled in the night air. After a moment of gauging him, Zula stepped up to his side. She hesitated, before offering one of her cookies. Parting with one cookie would be alright, even if she still wanted to kind of hoard sweets. Maybe she could ask Sera what other sweets there were and how to get them.

"They're delicious." She said and Cullen slowly reached out, accepting the treat.

"Thank you." His voice was a tad quieter now. Zula felt the tug of a smile on her face when he took a bite and seemed positively surprised.

"They're better than the last batch." He commented and Zula threw him a questioning look. "The last didn't have as much sugar, since our supplies weren't as well stocked as they are now."

She hummed noncommittally. Zula understood the bare bones about cooking and was genuinely fascinated with how people made it taste as good as they did. Though she had learned not to sniff pepper directly, especially ground pepper. She had never sneezed like that before.

They ate their cookies in silence and Zula stared out over the mountains as well. A too familiar ache spread through her chest, when she thought about how much fun flying would be right now. The sky was mostly clear, the snow almost glowing in the moonlight and there was only a gentle bit of wind. Gliding around in nights like these was a lot of fun, as was diving into banks of snow and breaking forth like an erupting volcano. She had loved doing that especially as a kid in her mother's den, where there had been more than enough snow to hide in and scare her siblings. The memory brought a wistful smile to her face.

"What brought you to the Inquisition?" Cullen asked and the comfortable quiet around them broke. Zula glanced at him and found him looking at her and his face held an expression she wasn't quite sure how to read.

"I needed help." Zula answered, going for the simplest route. She looked over her shoulder towards the courtyard and the rising walls of the fortress. "You're doing important work here, though."

And they really were. Zula understood enough now thankfully, to understand just how dangerous this tear in the sky was. It could swallow the whole world. It didn't matter if one was a person or a dragon, no one would be safe. The Inquisition struggled, though, that much Zula had understood. Not quite why, but there was some pushback and people wanting them to disband. Lavellan's work was slowly changing that, but they were still working hard just to build a reputation.

"Thanks for doing what no one else seemingly wants to do." Zula found herself saying. "It's going to keep a lot of people safe." And dragons, even though she was sure that people couldn't care less about her kind.

She looked up at Cullen and caught a softening of his expression.

"I only ever wanted to help and protect people." He said and for a moment, his gaze turned far away, as though he was sinking into memories. "I won't turn my back on them."

Zula felt as though she was hit with a sudden realization. Cullen had a good heart. He was a good person. What was more, she could understand that will, that inner drive, to try and do the best he could. Even if he seemed a bit worn around the edges and Zula understood that, too. She would forever fiercely help any and all dragons should they need it, but that didn't mean that she wasn't sometimes tired of it. Tired of the constant fight, the near constant vigilance. The worry and slowly spreading fear that someone had died when she hadn't seen a friend in too long. And sometimes she was tired of the knowledge that she was going to die during a battle for her very life, be it through blade, arrow or magic. Dragons did not die of old age.

"I understand." She said, simply because there was nothing else to add. Tipping her head back, she stared up at the sky. "Do you sometimes think about a world where it won't be necessary? Where everyone can just...be?"

His gaze felt heavy on her and she heard his slow, deep exhale. "Sometimes." It was a soft word, uttered quietly, almost like a secret. "But I am not naive enough to think I'm ever going to see it. Not easily, in any case."

A humorless smile touched her lips. "Yeah."

This time, the settling silence felt heavy. Zula stared at the moon and reached into her pocket, pulling out two slightly crumbly cookies. She had only one left after that. Wordlessly, she held the cookie out to Cullen. A soft huff made her glance over and she saw the wry smile on his face as he accepted the sweet.

"Did you steal them from the kitchens?" He asked.

Zula found herself snorting slightly. "What? Me? Whatever made you think I would do that."

The wry smile turned amused and Cullen leaned back against the battlements. He looked less like a leader then, less of a commander, whatever exactly that title meant. Zula just knew that it was apparently high up in the hierarchy the people used to structure their world. It was weird to her personally, but she tried to understand it anyway. Still, Cullen had, so far, proven himself worth listening to. Right now, Cullen's posture seemed a bit looser, a little less upright and constantly vigilant and ever attentive of looking strong and unshakeable. Somehow, it made him seem a bit more approachable.

"I should return to my work." Cullen said once he ate the last bite and Zula caught him giving his index finger a quick lick. "Good night, Zula." A slightly crooked, small smile appeared on his face. "And thank you for sharing your spoils."

She found herself laughing, something in the way he said it just brought mirth forth. "You're welcome. Good night, Cullen."

For a second, it almost looked as though he wanted to say something else, before he gave a small tilt of his head and headed back towards his office. Zula waited until the door closed behind him, before she pulled out the last cookie and, biting into it with a lingering smile, she wandered back towards her half collapsed room.

~*~

"How much is ten thousand sovereign?" Zula asked Varric during one of their lessons. She was getting good enough that she only occasionally needed his help with a word and he said he'd give her a more difficult book soon. The storybook she was currently reading, on legends and lore, was rather interesting and finally cleared up just who this Maker was everyone spoke of. It was also the last day she could spent in Skyhold, since she'd leave with Harding in the morning to scout out a location on behest of a woman named Leliana.

Cole sat at the side of the office, his back resting against a bookcase and he had a cat in his lap. Zula had stolen glances at him between reading pages. She had never seen a cat before, but the way he petted it made it look really nice. And it _purred_. It almost sounded like the pleased rumble of a dragon too, if far quieter and not as deep.

Varric looked up from the written pages he had stared at thoughtfully. "A lot. Why do you ask?"

"I need it for the spell." Zula explained and his eyebrows rose.

"Maker's breath, Firebrand what kind of spell did you ask for?" He asked, sounding disbelieving. Shaking his head, he continued, "But I'd say, without finding things to sell or finding gold itself, it will take you a good two years or more to get that money."

Zula stared at him. She didn't have that much time. Or rather, she didn't want to wait that long. Damn it, at this rate, she probably had to head back to her den then at one point to get the coin. Or rather, she had to find her way to Tyra and have her friend fly her back home so she could collect the money before returning to Skyhold.

She rubbed a hand over her face, feeling stressed and upset all over again. The worst thing was that Zula was starting to get scared. She had grown rather used to this body, had learned enough about the language and the behavior of people to mostly fit in. She had started to make _friends_. A part of her worried she'd get too used to things.

Cole stepping up to her drew Zula from her thoughts and she blinked when he gently held out the softly purring cat curled up in his arms.

"Touching cats is calming." He said, voice soft as always. Zula hesitated, before she carefully reached out. Animals hadn't liked her much so far, dogs barked at her and horses shied away from her. Her fingertips touched soft fur and a tiny noise of surprise escaped her. The cat watched her through one open eye and briefly paused purring, before it just continued. Either Cole was amazing at keeping the cat docile, or he had managed to find an animal that didn't hate her.

"Scared and terrified, longing for freedom to the point of pain and the ache of all things too different. I miss home." Cole said, voice even quieter and softer than before. The next moment, for the first time, he looked her in the eye. He seemed to hesitate a second, before speaking again. "It will be alright."

Zula mustered up a weak smile for him. She liked Cole, he was pleasant to be around. Zula didn't care that he wasn't really human, she had caught onto that much with all the overheard conversations and his scent. But then again, she wasn't really human either and he was kinder than a lot of other people. He only ever tried to make things better, from what she had seen.

"Thank you, Cole." She said, swallowing down her emotions and taking a deeper breath to calm her thoughts.

"I hope it helped." Cole said and Zula wasn't sure if he meant his words or the cat. Maybe both. "I just want to help."

"You did, don't worry." She tried to reassure him. He was just so honest, it was a relief. No double speech with him, no worries to misunderstand. Talking with Cole was kind of nice and rather interesting, once she got used to him repeating what other people thought-felt. "I've never touched a cat before."

Cole smiled slightly. "They're warm and soft. Their purrs comfort and heal, they catch mice and make people smile."

Zula gently pet the cat a bit longer, before she reluctantly pulled her hand back. Better not to overdo it and strain whatever good fortune had allowed her to touch the animal. When she looked up, she caught a glimpse of the softer expression on Varric's face, before it disappeared behind one of his slightly crooked and roguish smiles.

The fondness in her chest as she regarded Varric and now Cole too, came as no surprise, though she still tried to be careful. She had to try to not get too invested. Oh, she hoped this wouldn't hurt her too badly once everything broke apart when the truth of her real self was revealed.

Who knew people could be so fun? So kind? So smart and nice? Zula had never, ever expected to enjoy their company so much before all this, but here she was. She couldn't really bring herself to regret it and to getting to know these people. At the same time, she knew it couldn't last. It wouldn't, because the thought of never being a dragon again scared her too much to consider. She would turn back and then...then she'd most likely never see them again.

Hopefully, leaving with Harding would help her get a bit of distance and clear her head. Maybe she was unreasonably lucky and found gold somewhere, too. If possible, she would like to save herself the hassle of trying to find her way to Tyra.

~*~

Zula grit her teeth against the wound in her leg, blood quickly pooling past her fingers to soak further through her britches. She managed to bite back any kind of sound and hunkered lower to stay hidden. Beside her, Leo, one of the other scouts, had a hand pressed to his side. The scent of his blood was thick in the air, far thicker than hers. He had gotten a blade in the stomach and his face was starting to turn grey. He was running out of time.

Zula genuinely didn't know how to help him. She had learned a bit about treating wounds from the rangers, but that looked too bad. That looked like the sort of injury Ellion had told her to get a healer for. And the healer of the scouts, a woman named Ellie, was back at camp.

What they had, instead of Ellie, was enemies hot on their tail. Enemies who had set a trap in the area Leo and Zula had scouted for suspicious activity. Zula had heard them, though, and warned Leo and he had been confident that with them surprising their ambushers, they could take them. But Zula hadn't noticed the trap laid out between the trees. She wasn't used to traps, knew only the ones the rangers used to catch rabbits or smaller prey. So they had walked right into it and had barely made it out alive. They were on the run now, but Zula knew they couldn't lead the enemy back to camp and they were too slow to shake them off by taking a longer route back. Leo had to get back to Ellie, as quickly as possible.

Pressing her hand harder against her wound, she listened carefully. Past the slightly panicked gasps of Leo, she heard the steps of their pursuers further away. They were searching for them and they were slowly catching up. Zula stared down at the blood Leo and she had dripped about and bit back a vicious curse.

Zula glanced at Leo, who looked unhealthily pale and was sweating. His eyes met hers and she saw the fear in his gaze, the silent plea. For what exactly, she wasn't sure. To not be left behind? If Zula was honest, when she had first arrived in Skyhold, she wouldn't have cared if he lived or died. She might even have left him behind if it meant her survival was guaranteed. But now...now things were different and she didn't know if she should curse the fact or not. She had only ever been loyal to her kind before.

Zula liked Scout Harding quite a bit and she started to like the scouts too, who put their lives on the line along with hers. Leo had been one of the scouts who taught Zula the things she didn't know and who loved to wax poetic about his partner and their adopted children. Shit.

Thinking frantically, she wondered what she should do. Leo was in no fighting condition and she was injured. Zula was scared her sword skills wouldn't hold up to taking on a group of enemies. She was tougher, yes, and healed faster, but that meant fuck all if she was impaled by a blade. Unless...there was one thing she had that others didn't have. Something that might let her win.

"Go." She whispered at Leo. "I'll hold them off."

"What?" He whispered back, voice raspy and shaky. "No, they'll kill you."

"They'll kill both of us if we don't do something." And she really needed him away from her. Zula would like to keep Leo safe, but she wouldn't compromise her secret. If he stayed, he'd die and she might too. "I need you to go."

Leo hesitated and she gave his shoulder a small shove, to get him to stand up again. She hissed, "Think of your children."

That made Leo swallow and he forced himself to his feet. Zula straightened as well and for a second, it looked as though Leo was still going to stay. Then he turned around and walked away as fast as his wound allowed, his gait slightly unsteady and blood falling onto fern leaves. 

Zula waited until he was out of sight, before she dropped all pretenses and scented the air. The smell of blood was strong, but she caught the scents of the people on their heels and they were drawing ever closer.

The people smelled like the army she had seen attacking Haven. Only kind of worse. The wrong smell had grown stronger in them. It was almost sharp in her nose and made her hairs stand up along her arms and neck. She really needed someone to explain that stuff to her, preferably after she survived this. She had to survive this.

As quietly as possible, she started to limp her way away from the improvised hiding spot, ducking deeper into the trees and foliage of the forest. Zula took a generous circle, until she caught up to their pursuers and rounded them to get behind them. Even with Ellion's lessons and further training from the scouts, Zula wasn't exactly used to tactics and planning. She wasn't used to murder stalking after her through the forest either. As a dragon, things either killed you in battle or you killed them and then there was quiet and healing until the whole thing repeated itself sooner or later.

They were four in total, the same amount of people that had attacked them. If Zula was honest, she wasn't sure if she could take those four, especially not injured and exhausted. Swallowing, she kept a bit of distance, listening to their footsteps and the occasional, low word as they kept following her bloody trail.

Finally, she was at their backs and did her best to remain quiet while slowly stalking up to them, bridging the distance she had kept while circling them. Zula got a good view of the people following after Leo and she. Three armed and armored warriors and a strange, hulking thing, that looked like a grotesque masquerade of a person with red crystals sticking out of their bulging, reddened flesh. That being smelled so strongly of the wrongness, it slightly hurt Zula's nose. Instinct told her to stay away as far as possible from that one. She wouldn't have that luxury today.

One of the four was walking at the rear end of the group. They had a bow in their hands, one arrow notched but not pulled. The whole group was rather quiet, but not quiet enough for her senses. Zula reached up for her sword and halted with a frown. She could use it, but she wasn't sure if she could kill the archer unnoticed and she really needed to try and take out as many of them as she could without having them attack in return. This whole stupid plan of hers banked on the element of surprise and, if needed, stunning her enemies.

Her gaze fell to her claws. She hadn't fought with them before, only scratched up a thief once. They might be enough to take out a person's throat. She had to try. Claws allowed her to avoid the bigger movements her sword needed and should draw less attention.

Taking a quiet, deep breath, she crept forward, her heart in her throat. Only Ellion's lessons kept her from stepping on dry twigs or ruffling the fern bushes. She noticed the one person walking beside the abomination had daggers in his belt, while the one at the head of the group had a sword on his back and was looking at the ground, clearly tracking the drips of blood.

Zula was close to the archer now, who carefully walked across the forest floor with whispering steps. Subconsciously holding her breath, she lunged, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. One hand clamped over the archer's mouth, while with the other, she clawed at his neck with all her strength. Her nails dug into flesh, hot blood pouring over her fingers as she sunk them deeper than even she expected into his throat. For a second, she felt as though she was nearly touching his spine.

A gurgled, wet sound was muffled to near silence against her hand and for a second, the archer twitched in panic, the bow dropping from their hands to land on a patch of moss. Fuck.

The archer grew limp the next moment and she barely managed to catch them and lowered them to the ground. She quickly stepped over the body, the fingers of one hand dripping with red. She had to choose the next target, quickly.

Her decision was taken from her when the man with the daggers slowed and started to shift, as though to turn around and look back at the archer. Without much thought, Zula lunged for him. She managed to grapple him just as their eyes met, his growing wide. One of his hands went to his daggers and Zula, panicking, slammed her claws into both his arms and when he reared back, she bit down on his exposed throat.

A burst of blood coated her tongue, but the bite wasn't quite enough, her teeth not as large as they used to be. She dug deeper and watched the other two turning towards her, she clamped down and ripped. The strangled noise was impossible to muffle and the man with the daggers slumped to the ground, as Zula released him to avoid the blade of the warrior. Her wound leg buckled for a second and she watched as the sword missed her by a hair's breath.

Spitting out the flesh between her teeth, Zula scrambled for her sword. She hadn't really been in a serious fight against other people since being turned human. Spars and training, yes, hunting animals, yes, she had even fought demons, but she hadn't yet fought a battle against people like this. Nothing this life or death and she found herself wanting to breathe fire and strike out with her claws, but she was tiny and a person and _she needed her sword if she wanted to live_.

Drawing it, she barely managed to deflect the next blow of the warrior, their greatswords clashing with a clang of metal and she felt the impact all the way into her shoulders. She almost staggered as she was forced to step back on her injured leg. That was the moment the abomination charged, roaring and the red crystals glowing and his wrong scent growing stronger than before.

Zula reacted without thinking, her instincts taking over. She threw herself out of the abomination's path with a single-minded determination to _not touch it_. Slamming to the ground, she quickly rolled away from the warrior, whose blade struck the ground a bare second later. Her grip on her own weapon barely held and she sprang back to her feet, only to have her bad leg buckling entirely. Her knee slammed to the ground, the warrior's sword missed her head by inches and the abomination roared again.

Zula saw the warrior getting ready for another strike, blade gleaming in the sun falling through the canopy, while the abomination lunged for her, crystal clad claws sparking with magic. Her mind blanked and she shrieked without thought. For a second, all noise, even the frantic pace of her heart, was drowned by the sound she released.

The warrior staggered, the tip of his sword dropping to the ground and the abomination almost fell to a knee as it stopped. Both swayed, stunned and Zula didn't dare to waste a second. The sloppy hit of her sword, more a hasty swing than a controlled strike, hit the warrior in the side of the neck. Blood poured and with a chocked noise, he slumped to the ground, knees hitting the earth with a rattling clang of armor.

The abomination was next and Zula struck it, still reeling and in pain and afraid in a feral way she hadn't been since she had been turned human. The thing gave the most horrifying screech, followed by an unnatural sounding wheeze, when her blade found its mark. Zula struck again and again, as it finally fell and a fourth time just to be sure, blood coating her blade and she was shakily standing on her legs.

Breathing heavily, heart racing to the point where it thrummed a painful beat against her ribs, she stared at the corpses. For a second, she felt lightheaded and had to lean on her sword to keep her balance. One of her hands was still coated in blood and she had the taste of sweet copper bright on her tongue, felt it down her chin and drying slowly.

Stumbling away from the fallen enemies, she sheathed her sword. The camp. She had to return. Before that however, Zula forced herself to listen as carefully as she could for a second. There were no more footsteps heading her way and the air was saturated with blood and the scents of the forest.

Limping away, Zula hurried as much as she could, tense and holding the exhaustion and mounting dizziness of the blood loss at bay with sheer force of will. When the camp finally came into view, a sound escaped her before she could stop it. High-pitched and vibrating in her chest, it was the noise of a wounded dragon requesting help. Thankfully, none of the scouts heard it, or if they had, they certainly were more relieved at her appearance than to pay any attention to the sound she had made without thought.

"Maker, we were about to leave and look for you. What happened?" Harding asked, rushing over with another scout to support her. "Bring the medic, quick!"

Zula tried to recount what happened to the best of her abilities, but she wasn't too sure if she was doing a good job. Harding sent out a group of scouts to watch the area. Zula watched them melt into the foliage with swift steps and Harding reassured her that Leo would be alright, while guiding her to a tent. Their medic was already waiting with her bag clutched in a hand.

Zula lost consciousness, somewhere between her britches getting cut open and the first piercing of the needle through her flesh.

~*~

Zula had never thought that she would be so glad to be back in Skyhold, filled with people as it was. She ached all over. Her first fight with the templars - she knew that was what they were called now and what they did to themselves with red lyrium - had by far not been the last one. Most of the scouts had gotten hurt during this mission and Harding's face had been tense all the way back. Zula wasn't sure if she blamed herself, but something hadn't gone well this time. Leo at least looked as relieved as she felt to be back.

Bruised all over and with healing cuts and two more stitched wounds, she was glad for a few days in a place that was mostly safe. Well, she would stay out of the way of the soldiers who seemed to have a grudge against her after her fight with Terris, but aside from that, she should be able to heal in peace. Skyhold was hot meals and a broken room where she had put down her bedroll and some pilfered furs.

Zula was on her way to said room - the only place she felt safe enough to sleep for a few hours - when she noticed a group of strangers entering the fortress. Narrowing her eyes, she squinted at them, ignoring the pull of the large bruise on her cheek. The strangers wore masks and she certainly hadn't seen them before.

Frowning, Zula wasn't sure if she should feel territorial or not. Skyhold wasn't hers in any way and there were a lot of people around she had never so much as exchanged a greeting with. Deciding to keep an eye on the masked people, but not to feel too bothered by their presence, she kept walking.

"Maker's hairy arse." Sera's voice caught her attention and she looked up to see her standing on a roof. With a quick few movements and a skillful drop, Sera stood before her, frowning. "What happened?"

Zula couldn't help the noise of absolute frustration and exhausted anger that grumbled out of her, her shoulders slumping.

"That kind of job, huh?" Sera sounded sympathetic, which Zula hadn't quite expected. The scouts had been pretty quiet on the way back, most of them beat up. They had accomplished what this Leliana had sent them out to do, had retrieved the information and some artifacts, but there had been so many attacks. More than Zula had expected after Harding explaining the mission to them.

"Come on." Sera said, nudging her arm and startling Zula out of her thoughts. "I know just the thing."

With a face that probably was as sour as her mood, Zula followed her. She had planned on just curling up on the furs and not moving for a couple of hours, but if Sera sat her down elsewhere, that was just as fine in her books. As long as she could rest. They entered the Herald's Rest and Zula found herself ushered off to The Iron Bull and the Chargers, who took a look at her and seemed to understand what was going on.

"Rough job?" Krem asked with a smile that somehow perfectly conveyed just how shitty that could be. He gave her shoulder the gentlest of pats, as though careful in case that was a bruised spot. It wasn't, but her ribs sure as fuck were hurting and she probably would have bared her teeth at him had he come close to the injury or one of the stitches.

Now that she thought about it, she shouldn't let any of them close to her in her injured state. And she probably wouldn't have back when she had first entered Skyhold either. But...she had sat with them a handful of times after Dorian invited her over and they were alright. Even if The Iron Bull sometimes watched her with a look she couldn't decipher and she didn't know that much about the individual members of Chargers. They treated her well, however, whenever she had ended up at their table.

Sera returned with a bowl of food and set down a couple of bottles and glasses, along with filled tankards. "Here, let's forget your woes for a bit, yeah?"

"What's that?" Zula asked and gave a sniff as Sera opened a bottle. Her nose curled. "That stinks."

For a second, the whole table stared at her. Sera stared in disbelief. "Don't tell me you've never had alcohol? Mead? Beer? Something stronger? Liquor?"

Zula didn't feel like dealing with her non-people-ness right now or what knowledge she lacked now. She closed her eyes. "No."

To her relief, Sera merely made a nose that was half offended and half incredulous, while The Iron Bull laughed.

"Well, you're about to." He said with humor, though when Zula opened her eyes, she saw concern and empathy in his gaze. "Enjoy."

With that, Sera poured everyone a drink and distributed them amongst the table. Zula watched them knock the drinks back and copied them. She coughed in surprise as it burned down her throat. It tasted as bad as it smelled, but something about the burn reminded her a tiny bit of spitting fire. Her fire had never hurt her of course, but if she overdid it, her throat would sometimes sting a little. Alcohol wasn't quite the same, but at this point, Zula found herself desperate for any pieces, every reminder, of what was once normal for her.

The Iron Bull saluted with a grin, when she knocked the second shot back without hesitating. Then she got a tankard, though she found that beer really was too shitty to drink. Mead was fine though, after Skinner was willing to switch tankards with her. After a while, it became easier to ignore the stiffness of bruises and the dull pain at the edges of her senses. Instead, she started to feel truly warm from the inside out.

At one point, Varric and Dorian joined them and Sera had disappeared beneath the table in a fit of drunken giggles. Zula had checked in on her, to find her looking quite content while leaning against table legs and with the Chargers mindfully keeping an eye out for her as well. Zula noticed, even through the haze that started to fog her mind, that The Iron Bull didn't seem to get wasted. Oh, he drank with joy and clanged tankards and cheered on a little drinking game between Dalish and Rocky, but his eye remained clear.

He was watching, Zula realized, though with her thoughts not quite as clear as usual, she couldn't tell if he was watching over them or was just generally too careful to become really drunk. Zula, considering it was her first time, noticed far too late that she had drunk too much.

"I think that's quite enough, don't you, Firebrand?" Varric said with the sort of tone that suggested he was no stranger to making people relinquish their tankards to him. Zula gave hers up easily, since she currently couldn't remember why she shouldn't. And she didn't really want to get even more drunk. She trusted Varric.

Dorian was bantering with The Iron Bull, though Zula had no idea what they were talking about. At least Zula thought they were bantering. The words involved made no sense to her, but then again, there was still a good chunk of knowledge she lacked, always, at all times.

"You're a good friend." She told Varric, though her tongue felt unwieldy enough that she wasn't quite sure how well she got the words out.

Varric gave her arm a pat as he finished her tankard and set it aside. Zula squinted at that. Was that a people custom? Dragons usually only shared food when they really liked each other. Close friends or family did it, for example.

"People are confusing." She declared, leaning against the table because her equilibrium was entirely off. "Make no sense at all."

Varric chuckled. "You're not wrong, Firebrand. Come on, I think it's time you get some sleep."

"Sera." She said, because Sera took her here and now she was under the table, alternating between snoring and slurring words if someone tried to talk to her. Sera should not stay under the table.

"We'll take care of her." Krem promised. There was a slight slur to his voice, but he seemed to not be quite as drunk as Zula. He certainly looked like he still had his equilibrium. "She has her room just up the stairs after all."

True, that was true. And Sera was friends with them and with The Iron Bull and Dorian. People took care of their friends, as far as she knew. So it would be alright. With a nod, she tried to follow Varric when he got up, only to stumble with a surprised nose. She managed to remain upright, blinking with muddled confusion. Was the ground supposed to behave that way? Or her sight?

"Want any help?" The Iron Bull asked and Zula noticed that he and Dorian had looked over, a slight furrow between Dorian's eyebrows.

Varric gave her a critical look. "Might be a good idea if you don't mind, Tiny."

The Iron Bull got up, while Dorian declared that he might as well see to it that Sera found her way to bed. Zula found herself in a gentle but secure grip, as Varric on one side and The Iron Bull on the other, escorted her out of the tavern. Zula said something about The Iron Bull having nice horns, and it must be clear enough since he chuckled at her words.  
"Thanks." He said, amusement making his voice kind of rumbly in his chest.

"To the barracks." Varric said.

"No, no." Zula pulled them to a stop. "I don't sleep there."

She was certain they exchanged a look, though she couldn't tell what kind of look, before The Iron Bull turned to her. "Where do you sleep?"

For a moment, she thought that they shouldn't know her resting place. It was just barely hidden enough that people didn't seem to find it to give her trouble for it. The fewer knew where she slept, the safer. But she trusted Varric and she was on the way to getting to know The Iron Bull a bit better and so far, she liked him well enough. So, she started to fumble towards the stairs, her two companions staying with her.

It took a bit until they reached the room with the half caved in ceiling. It wasn't particularly warm, or pretty, but she had cleared out an edge and had used the debris to build a little bit of a protective circle. Snowflakes drifted in through the hole, but with the furs she had been fine so far. Zula stumbled over and dropped on her bedroll and started pulling off her boots.

"You sleep here?" There was a slightly strange note in Varric's voice and she looked at him, head tilted to the side.

"It's better, fewer people." She found herself slurring. "People kill you."

She started wriggling into the bedroll and a big hand helped her pull the furs in place. It was dark enough that, with her alcohol impaired sight and mind, she couldn't really make out either of their faces.

"Sleep." Varric said. There was a brief pat at her shoulder as The Iron Bull straightened back up. "You're safe here."

Zula really wished he was right. But even drunk, she knew it wasn't really true. Not considering who she was. Still, it was nice to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any typos or grammar mistake I overlooked and I'll be sure to comb over the chapter again a few times in the coming days to catch what I missed. I hope this was an enjoyable chapter! Thank you very much for reading =)


	4. Bare Bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the chapter turned out well enough and that you have fun reading! =) In case of missed spelling or grammar mistakes, I'll read over the chapter again in the coming days.

Alcohol, as Zula was now aware of, loosened her tongue. And it apparently gave Sera a hangover, which seemed to be a big, nasty headache. Zula was certain that only her heightened recovery kept her from suffering the same fate. To her relief, neither Varric nor The Iron Bull mentioned anything she had said the previous night, when they joined them for breakfast.

"Maker's arse." Sera grumbled at her and shoved a piece of dry bread into her mouth. Her hair was a mussed mess and she looked half asleep. "That's not fair, you drank more than me, how are you just fine?"

Zula couldn't very well tell her that it might be because she was a dragon, so after a second of hesitation, she merely reached out and gave Sera's back a pat. Sera blinked at her and then snorted, a wry smirk curling along the edges of her mouth. She shoved another piece of bread into her mouth.

It was nice, Zula realized once The Iron Bull asked her about her latest mission with the scouts. Sitting here with people she considered friends despite herself and her circumstances, talking and enjoying good food. It was really nice.

They dispersed soon after, everyone heading off to do their own thing. Sera grumbled about going back to sleep and The Iron Bull called his Chargers together for a round of training. Varric and Dorian left, discussing something that Zula didn't quite understand and she herself went off to go and help the builders. As usual.

Around noon, after resisting the urge to throw a huge stone at Terris and his sneering face, a commotion drew her attention. Along with the other soldiers and workers, she found herself drawn to the front of the fortress and the big wagons pulling through the gate. When she got close enough to saw what they delivered, her breath caught in her chest. A numb sensation spread through her so quickly, it both felt like her stomach turned to ice and as though fire was scorching through her veins.

Dragon parts. The wagons were delivering dragon pieces. A skull that was nearly perfectly intact, aside from a tear in the bone over the left eye socket and a broken tooth. A wagon full of dragon scales that could be used for armor or whatever the fuck else people did with it. The scales were the smaller and softer kind, found at the throats of armpits or underbelly or along the inside of the forelimbs of the dragons. Any other scales would be too big and maybe too tough or unwieldy to make into other stuff. There were claws and bits of wing in another wagon and the last held big ceramic containers.

"The organs, they finally brought them!" Someone nearby exclaimed happily, as they stepped towards the containers and Zula suddenly felt like throwing up. Either that or letting go of the burning feeling in her veins and attack everyone within range.

"What." The word was a dry sound in her throat and one of the soldiers turned to Zula, an excited grin on his face.

"The Inquisitor defeated that one in the Hinterlands. It was a massive fight, from what the scouts said. The dragon was too big for transport, so the people in the Hinterlands took care of tanning the hide and making sure all of that would get to us in prime condition," He said, turning bright eyes back on the cart. "Our Inquisitor is amazing, defeating dragons and demons."

Zula stared at the gold and sand colored scales that were lifted out of one wagon, the colors dulled slightly with death, but still bright enough to draw gasps from milling gawkers. Zula couldn't resist stepping closer and inhaling deeply, desperately trying to figure out if she had personally known that dragon. The scent, barely still present under whatever chemicals and other things the hide and bones had been treated with, was unfamiliar to her. It was a cold relief and a mixture of fury and feeling sick chocked her up.

The Iron Bull and his Chargers sauntered up to her, sweaty from training and watching as the wagons started to get unloaded, a bunch of people flitting about to get everything organized and put away properly.

"Were you there?" The question slipped out before Zula could stop herself and her fingers were curled into fists, the tips of her claws digging into skin. "Did you help kill her?"

"No." The Iron Bull sounded a mixture of disappointed and wistful. "As far as I know, Cassandra, Solas and Varric were with Lavellan on that fight."

Varric's name rang strangely in her ears. Zula felt The Iron Bull's gaze fall to her and she wondered what her expression looked like and found she didn't care after all. The realization that there was nothing she could do made her feel dizzy. The dragon was dead and Zula was too small to take what was left of her and find a place to put her to rest. Zula was too weak to fight a fortress of people, people that had _slain_ one of her kind, to take the wagons away from them.

"What's your opinion, about dragons?" Zula no longer felt her limbs or her body. Numbness had spread farther and it probably was better that way. Raging wouldn't do her any good. She still needed the help of a mage. (Oh, how she longed to claw someone's face of for what they had done.)

The Iron Bull chuckled briefly. "Oh, I'd love to fight them, there would be no better battle. Dragons are the embodiment of raw power." She glanced up to see a slight furrow breaking through the excited smile. "But, it's all uncontrolled too, savage... So they need to be destroyed. Taming the wild and making order out of chaos."

"Ah." The noise was dull in her rushing ears and for a second, she felt as though she couldn't breathe. As though a giant had slammed a boulder onto her chest, breaking her bones and squeezing the air out of her lungs.

"What should we do with the head?" One of the soldier's asked as they reached for the skull, voice going strained as they began to lift it. "Put it up in the main hall?"

"Too fucking big," Another soldier chimed in as she shook her head. "We can't even get it through the door. Maybe it will go up on a wall or something. Or the mages will find use for it. The Inquisitor is going to decide, for now, we'll store it by the stables." The woman turned to The Iron Bull. "Little help, big guy?"

"Sure thing." At The Iron Bull's nod, the Chargers stepped forward as well and together, they heaved the dragon skull out of the wagon, the wood groaning as though in relief to be rid of the weight.

Without a word, Zula turned around and walked away. If someone said something or asked her to help too, she didn't hear it. She'd get her claws into the nearest person if they would ask her to help them with the skull. Which was fucking laughable, she was tiny compared to The Iron Bull and even with being tougher than the regular person, she wouldn't stand a chance against a courtyard full of fighters.

Zula lost track of where she went, mind blanking entirely, until she found herself at the furthest corner of the fortress. Blinking, she noticed the still dull roar in her ears, the numbness in her limbs and the white, snow covered mountains spreading before her. She was a step away from falling to her death, standing at the furthest edges of a roof.

She had wanted to fly away, she realized, but obviously couldn't. Zula took a heavy step back and sat down heavily. She had felt so relieved and accomplished when she had kept everyone in Crestwood safe. When that dragon would be fine and Lavellan and the others would be fine and no one had to die. It had never occurred to her, that they might have already killed a dragon. That they might kill one again anytime the Inquisitor left during her long travels.

"Oh." The soft voice made her flinch and she snapped her head up, to see Cole standing a few feet away. The brim of his hat almost hid his face entirely, but what bits Zula could see were drawn in pain and grief. 

For some reason, looking at his face made her throat go tight and her nose prick with the oncoming sensation of tears. Zula took a deep breath and bit them back. Dragons only cried to mourn and she hadn't known the killed one. It wasn't her place to cry for her, even if she was angry and grieving for the life lost. Another dragon gone from the world. Fuck. There were so fucking few of them left. And she was sorry. She was so, so sorry she hadn't been there sooner. Hadn't been there to help, to do something, _anything_.

"I'm sorry." Cole's voice was whisper soft and slightly rough around the edges, as though he sensed the way her throat was still tight. He probably could. "It hurts so much."

Zula snapped her mouth shut after opening it. There was nothing but acidic words in her right now. And Cole might not deserve it. Might not hate dragons and might not have killed one before. She didn't want to take out on him what others had done. She liked him too much for it. Oh, fuck, Varric had...

Slow steps approached and Zula was sure, the only reason she heard Cole, when he was usually so utterly silent, was because he wanted her to. He slowly lowered himself down beside her and after a second of hesitation, reached out. It was only when his fingertips touched her hands, that she realized they were still in fists. After another light tap, she forced her fingers to uncurl and noticed the blood clinging to her claws.

"These are not normal hands." Cole said softly. "And they do not like to do most normal things, though it has gotten better and easier."

Zula felt her mouth dry and cast him a wary glance. He didn't look at her, but turned her hands around. The insides of her palms were turning red as more blood welled up from the cuts her claws had made.

"I do not mind." He said, voice still so soft. "Those hands defend and that is all that matters." 

Zula exhaled heavily and her shoulders slumped and all of a sudden, she felt utterly tired. "Why are you here, Cole?"

"You hurt, badly." He said and pulled two scraps of linen from a pocket, gently winding them around her hands. Zula didn't tell him not to bother with it, that her hands would heal fast enough on their own and that come morning, the cuts would be almost entirely gone. She kept her mouth shut, because it felt as though Cole's hands were the only things keeping her tethered in this moment. "What can I do? To help?"

Zula didn't know. Cole couldn't fix her or what had happened or what was going on. But, he was kind. His hands were gentle and his fingers deft as he finished wrapping her hands and he even tipped his hat to look at her. Sometimes, Zula wondered if Cole was a little bit like her. Not really human. Something Other. He certainly smelled like it. She didn't dare ask, though.

"Stay." The word cracked in her throat. "Please."

They sat in silence, Cole holding onto her hands as though he knew she needed that point of contact. He probably did, he was insightful and good like that. They sat together until Zula was numb from the cold and no longer numb from whatever ugly, scorching thing had come alive in her chest at the sight of the dragon pieces.

No one found them up there and Zula was glad for it. It felt like a little corner of safety, here at the edge of Skyhold, away from prying eyes and just a small tumble away from free falling. Where Cole was patient and quiet and his fingers remained spots of warmth against her skin, no matter the cold around them. 

And finally, what must be hours later, Zula stopped feeling like she was going to come apart at the seams. She still didn't move for a while longer and Cole still sat with her and Zula found she didn't have the words to tell him how thankful she was for him staying.

~*~

Zula avoided everyone for a couple of days. It turned out easy enough. Dorian was busy researching and she was usually the one to seek him out and sit with him until he was done. Varric was probably busy too, he had mentioned getting inspiration for a new chapter and Sera always seemed to find something to do or something to poke her nose in. The Iron Bull trained with his Chargers and Zula managed to avoid them well enough. She might not have been close to them, not yet anyways, but they had been fun and kind people before.

The Iron Bull's words rang in her ear and she couldn't stomach the thought of looking at Lavellan and those that had been part of killing the dragon. Varric. Fun and charming Varric, who gave her a nickname she secretly loved and who taught her writing and answered any and all questions without judging her or making her feel weird and stupid. She didn't know how to feel.

Cole was the only one who seemed to be around. If it was because she was still too upset for him to pass her by or if it was because Zula was glad for his company, she didn't know. They talked a bit, as they sat on roofs or at times at the very edges of Skyhold. Cole didn't mind the heights either and he was always sure-footed, so Zula never worried about him slipping on a patch of ice and falling or anything of the sort. Mostly though, they sat together quietly and watched the sunrise or sunset, which, admittedly, looked rather breathtaking. Once he brought the cat, too and it allowed Zula to pet it a few times.

"You should talk with him," Cole said one evening, as they sat together and the brim of his big, ridiculous hat lightly nudged her shoulder whenever he shifted or turned to glance at her. "He'd understand."

Zula didn't have to ask to know who he talked about. Her thoughts had circled heavily around Varric these past few days. Zula sighed heavily and dragged a clawed hand through her hair, feeling the shift and sensation of it against her fingers. Hair was still a weird concept to her, but she had gotten used to the one on her head. And it was growing, she had noticed. It was longer than it had been when she had been turned.

"I don't think he will." She answered quietly and felt the light bump of Cole's head as he turned to look at her. After a second, she glanced up and to her surprise, met his gaze. He didn't do that often. He looked sad and softly serious.

"He will. Varric is a good person and he just wants to help. He's good to me too, answers all the questions and doesn't mind me."

"That's good, you're a good person, too, Cole." Zula shifted and ducked her head so they could bump shoulders. "And I'll think about it, alright?"

He merely nodded and fell quiet again. They got up once night fell and Cole silently departed, while Zula headed back to her room. She walked by Cullens office just in time to see him step out, running a hand through his hair and his gaze lifting to meet hers. Zula was surprised to see the way the corners of his mouth ticked up slightly.

"Good evening." He said and his voice was quiet in the dark. Pleasant. Zula inclined his head. His brows furrowed. "Is everything alright?"

Zula wondered how to put it into words and if Cullen would understand. "Someone was killed and I couldn't do anything."

The explanation didn't sound like enough, but it was the best she could do. She couldn't very well explain the rush of fear to Cullen, when she had spotted that skull. The recurring worry that one day, the gates would open and pieces of her friends would get carted in. She couldn't just explain all that made her a dragon and so furious and sad at seeing what was happening to her kind. Her fear of getting killed herself if her true nature was revealed.

Something in her chest eased up a bit at the understanding look Cullen gave her. Nothing pitying, just understanding of the unspoken pain. His face was serious and sad _for_ her, she realized, when he stopped beside her at the battlements. Somehow, they always seemed to end up out here, the night sky stretching above them.

"We'll avenge them," He said, voice quieter and maybe a bit softer than usual. Zula almost wanted to laugh bitterly at his words. Cullen probably assumed that whoever she talked about had been killed by one of their enemies. "They will be able to rest easy."

She looked away and resisted the urge to bare her teeth. There would be no revenge, not in this. The last time she had gone on a rampage for revenge, had been when her sister had been killed and she had been inconsolable for months afterwards. Tyra had taken to dropping fish and other food on her head because she had refused to leave her den. Zula wondered who the dead dragon in the courtyard had been friends with. If those who cared about her knew that she had died.

"Thank you." She said after a second and looked back at Cullen with a smile that felt more like a pained grimace. He was just trying to help. "That is kind of you to say."

The small furrow between his brows remained and he watched her solemnly and Zula realized she saw the same pain she had experienced reflected in his eyes. They had both lost, had both mourned and been too late to safe others. It made her feel less alone and unexpectedly, made her feel closer to him. They stood in shared silence for a long moment, before Cullen shifted slightly.

"It gets easier, with time." He said, voice quiet and gaze fixed somewhere on the mountains. "The grief never goes away, but it gets easier."

"Yeah, it does." Zula leaned against the battlements and allowed herself to briefly close her eyes, sick and tired of death and fear and all that rage she had to use just to stay alive and keep others alive. Her shoulders slumped and she tipped her head back to stare up at the sky. "It still fucking sucks."

Her words startled a surprised, brief laugh out of Cullen and when she glanced over, a rueful smile was on his face. His eyes seemed warmer, when he looked at her. "I can't argue with that."

They stood in silence and Zula looked up in surprise, when Cullen lifted a hand and gently placed it on her shoulder. His palm was broad and his fingers long, the tips slightly, and reassuringly, pressing into her shoulder.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry it happened." He said, earnest and quiet, and Zula felt herself exhale heavily. Her eyes suddenly stung and she swallowed against her tight throat, closing her eyes to keep from tearing up. No one had ever apologized. And Cullen couldn't possibly know what he was apologizing for and he probably wouldn't if he knew the truth, but it meant something to Zula. It meant something that, finally, for once, someone was fucking sorry. Even if that person hadn't done anything to apologize for. It soothed the part of her that mourned and was so scared and tired of all the hurt and wondering who of her loved ones might get killed next. For the first time in days, she really relaxed.

Zula reached up and gave his hand a squeeze back, as much as was possible with his gauntlet. The metal was cold beneath her fingers, but the leather of his gloves was soft and well worn. Cullen gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and she felt the way his hand shifted with the movement beneath her palm. Their touch lingered a moment longer, before his touch slipped away, their fingers brushing as their hands fell back to their sides.

"Thank you." She said, voice just loud enough for him to hear. "That means a lot to me."

~*~

"Hey there, Firebrand." Varric's smile was as warm and charmingly crooked as always, but his gaze was attentive on her, as Zula sat down at the table with him and the others. Dorian had waved her over and Zula had decided to stop running away. That didn't make things easier, but she didn't want to hide anymore.

"Everything alright?" Varric asked. "Haven't seen you these last few days."

Dorian was glancing at her as well and he really had the uncaring face perfectly down. His eyes however, showed a hint of concern. Zula wondered what she looked like. She hadn't slept well in the past days, tossing and turning until she had finally fallen asleep for a few hours or noises had startled her awake again. She was nearly as wary as she had been when she had first arrived in Skyhold.

"I've been thinking a lot and the wall's repaired now, so we've moved onto another section of the fortress." She rolled her eyes. "I feel like a pack mule."

That made Varric chuckle and Dorian smiled wryly. Zula really had been busy, but she hadn't sought anyone out either. They seemed to accept her answer however and she found herself drawn into conversation easily. Dorian complained about the everlasting cold of Skyhold and quickly ended up bantering back and forth with The Iron Bull. Varric seemed content to listen and throw in his own smart remarks, while Sera leaned over to Zula, her eyes gleaming.

"Hey, want to prank some folks?" She asked, mischievous and with that spark of wild freeness in her grin.

"Of course." Zula gave her a smile back, because it was easy, because Sera was fun and straightforward and the last time had been a lot of fun. And if Zula was very carefully not thinking about the skull in the stables, or the guilt for still enjoying the company of those that hunted dragons, no one needed to know.

They finished dinner soon and Sera waved her out of the Herald's Rest with excited snickering. It was easy enough to get lost in it, to sneak around on rooftops and stand guard and help her with playing some harmless but fun pranks.

"There is some fancy shindig taking place soon." Sera said as they balanced along a roof and her blond hair gleamed almost white in the moonlight. "Some posh Orlesian shit. I don't know a lot of details, but it got everyone up in a tizzy."

"Really?" That was the first time Zula had heard about it. Then again, she hadn't really talked with people for a few days. "Do you know what it's about?"

"Some fancy ball and a bunch of rich tits trying to one-up another. Lavellan got invited and she's going to bring some of us along."

Sera hopped from one roof to the other, leaving small footprints in the snow that had fallen during the day. Zula followed and realized that she had gotten used to it. She had gotten used to the cold and how her new body dealt with it and what temperatures were fine and what weren't. She was growing used to being human. The thought scared her, so she immediately shied away from it.

Sera fell in step with her and nudged their shoulders together with a small grin.

"Hey, no more sad-angry faces, yeah? I've noticed you moping about those past few days. This was fun just now, right? Come on, I know just the thing."

They headed back to the Herald's Rest and Sera quickly ducked in and out the kitchen, fast and quiet enough that no one noticed until she was already out. The cook shouted after her and she snickered, clambering up the roof with a jar of honey and some freshly cut bread.

"There." She said, triumphant and pulled Zula along, still grinning like no force in the world could ever touch a hair on her head.

They tucked themselves against the chimney of the Herald's Rest, away from shouting kitchen staff and backs pressed against fire warmed stone. The honey on bread was wonderful and it was easy enough to let her thoughts slip away, as she tried not to get honey onto her hands or letting drops of it fall onto her pants. Cleaning clothes was such a pain in the ass.

"So, I've been meaning to ask." Sera said between big bites. She nodded at Zula's hands. "What's up with those claws? You kind of, I dunno, part qunari? I heard some of them have claws, but that might just be propaganda or some shite."

Zula had frozen, honey dipped bread halfway to her mouth and she quickly stuffed it in when she noticed the honey running down. Her heart was racing now and she stared at her hands, at the claws that she couldn't hide and hadn't really bothered to hide, now that she thought about it.

"Hey." Sera bumped their shoulders together again and Zula jolted out of her frozen panic. "What's it? You've gone all weird."

Zula exhaled and stomped down the urge to hide her hands. Sera had already seen anyway. And if she had, others had too. Had everyone noticed? Or only a few people and they had been too polite to say anything?

Sera eyed her, a small furrow between her brows now. "You're not like, some spirit or some shite, right? Like that Cole thing."

Zula blinked. "Spirit? No, no. I..." She swallowed, her mouth dry and her heart still in her throat. "I've come here to get help from a mage, right? Well..." She lifted her hands. "I was hit with a spell a while back and it changed me."

Sera looked surprised. "Fucking shite, did not expect that." She looked baffled and then frowned. "Have you talked with someone already?"

Zula sighed heavily. "I need ten thousand sovereign for a spell."

At this, an angry and disgusted expression crossed Sera's face. "That's bullshite. Maker's arse, have you talked with Dorian?"

Zula frowned, confused. "Why would I talk with Dorian?"

"Because he's a mage." Sera said, a tad slower. At Zula's expressions, her eyebrows rose. "Fucking hell, you didn't know that? How did you not know that? He's a vint!"

Dorian was a mage. Oh. Zula stared at Sera, feeling supremely stupid and dumbfounded. "What's a vint got to with all of that?"

Sera gave her another stare, before shaking her head. She got to her feet, taking the honey and bread along and then grabbed Zula's arm, tugigng her upright as well.  
"Come on, we're going to talk with him. I can't believe you didn't know."

Zula let herself get pulled along the roof and they clambered back down, before heading back into the fortress. Zula knew where Dorian's room was and he opened easily once they knocked. Sera breezed right past him and Dorian lifted an eyebrow, questioning and unimpressed.

"Mind telling me what's going on?" He asked as he closed the door behind Zula, after waving her in.

Sera gestured at her as she flopped down on a comfy chair by the fire. "Zula here needs a spell and the fucks up in the tower told her it cost ten thousand."

Dorian looked surprised and then turned to her with a frown. "Just what kind of spell did you ask for?"

Zula swallowed and lifted her hands. "I, well, I was hit by a spell a while back and it changed me. I wanted someone to undo it."

Sera grumbled a curse and now Dorian looked offended on her behalf.

"I'll do it." He said, surprising her and Sera fell quiet hissed curses about stuck up pricks and mages. "I'm a mage, Tevinter's finest, to let you know. I will help if I can. Or at the very least, get you a better offer from someone else."

Zula exhaled heavily and a heady rush of relief swamped through her. Dorian was willing to help. Her whole body relaxed and she sagged a bit, rubbing a hand over her face.

"Thank you." Her voice sounded a bit rougher and quieter than she had intended. Sera seemed satisfied, though she had an expression on her face that meant she was plotting pranks again. Zula was pretty certain, all she had to do was ask and Sera would gladly help her prank some mages. Not that she wanted to, not really, she might still need their help if Dorian couldn't do something.

"Can you tell me in more detail what happened? And what do you mean, something changed?" Dorian asked, while sitting down at his desk chair. There were papers and books stacked on it and a few notes strewn in-between. At his wave, she carefully took a seat on his bed.

"I was travelling." Zula said, quickly putting the events together without giving away what she was. "There was a trap laid out, a lot of blood that led to a cave. I thought someone had been wounded and I got closer to see if I could help."

Realization dawned on Dorian's face and it became dark for a moment, before he nodded in understanding. Sera watched her closely, her brows pulled together and she leaned forward a bit.

Zula continued. "Then the blood and the ground started to glow up. There were symbols, but I don't remember any details and I couldn't move anymore. I fell down and people started chanting. When they stopped I was different. My body looks kind of different now."

Dorian's face had turned hard to read, before he exhaled and seemed to think intently for a moment. "That sounds like blood magic. Well, we can try some things now, if you want."

"Sure." Zula agreed after a beat. "I mean, changing me back might have a bigger effect around us, but if you're sure?"

She was pretty certain that, should Dorian succeed right now, she would break the walls and ceiling. For a second, she felt the sudden urge to ask him to wait. For a heart-stopping moment, she genuinely hesitated. Hesitated because a part of her did not want this to be over yet. But if she was thinking that, it really had to happen all the sooner. Before she got even more attached, before...well, before there was a part of her that didn't _want_ to leave. And that thought terrified her almost as much as someone finding out what she was.

Dorian got up. "Any other details you can tell me? Who did this?"

Zula hesitates, before nodding. "Only that it was a bigger group of people that did it."

Dorian's frown deepened as he thought for a moment. "I'm not sure if I heard of mages ambushing people with blood magic, but I'll ask around." He lifted his hands, adding a small flick so his sleeves to slipped down a bit. "If you don't mind, allow me to see if I can do something."

Zula took a bracing breath and nodded. Dorian's magic was of a soft, light violet and it felt...the best way to describe it would be whispery. It felt whispery as it settled over her and he moved his hands. It wasn't bad or painful and probably for the first time in her life, magic was just simply...there. Not hurting, not tearing, not anything that made her want to flinch back.

Nothing happened and he hummed, thoughtful. "Alright, let's try this..."

The second spell was much like the first, though of a slightly different color. After the third spell, Dorian was certain that none of his quick solutions were going to work and he pulled out his spellbook, along with some parchment and ink. He asked more questions and started a list on books to research between spells. Sera piped in from time to time, asking her own questions or telling stories to distract Zula whenever she found herself involuntarily tensing up. Dorian's magic might be the gentlest she had ever encountered, but that didn't erase years of bad experiences with spells and her knee-jerk reaction to take a step back when it was aimed at her.

"There is magic clinging to you, I can feel it when I look for it." Dorian mumbled as he wrote some things down. Zula sat patiently and if she was honest, she was really happy to have Dorian helping her. She would sit here unmoving for days, if it meant Dorian would figure out how to reverse this. "Whatever it is, it's an unparalleled piece of work."

He muttered a few more things, too quiet for Zula to catch, even with her hearing, as he finished writing down his notes.

"It's most likely a transformation spell mixed with blood magic. A daring and dangerous combination." He said and sounded part baffled and part angry at what had been done to her, which was rather nice. "Though to be honest, this is on a level I have rarely seen before, especially outside of Tevinter."

When he looked at her, he became unexpectedly serious and his voice softened a tad. "You were lucky. Those kind of spells can leave the mind mangled or entirely void, turning people into shells. That you're still yourself is a minor miracle, if you ask me."

"Can you undo it?" Zula asked, ignoring the coldness that crept down her spine at his words. The thought that she might have lost her mind was terrifying.

"Of course I can." Dorian said with smiling confidence and a bit of his haughty surety, and while part of it seemed to be his usual way of carrying himself, the rest was genuine sureness in his abilities as a mage. "I just need time to figure out how it was done and how to reverse it." This time, his smile had something reassuring around the edges. "Worry not, you will be yourself in given time."

"Thank you." Zula said, her voice carrying a genuinely relieved tone and she felt as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "If there is anything I can help with in return, don't hesitate to ask."

"Great!" Sera said and got up with a stretch. "How long's that gonna to take?"

"It's nothing that can be solved in the next few days, I'm afraid." Dorian sounded genuinely apologetic. "It's complicated and I'll have to do some more research before I can try a real attempt at reversing this."

Sera lightly punched his shoulder. "You can do it, smarty britches. Come on you two, It's not that late yet and you need a break. Let's go."

Neither Dorian nor Zula protest as Sera dragged them to the tavern. This time, they headed up to Sera's room instead of looking for a free table. Settling down in what was still a proper den in her mind, Zula couldn't help but think that Sera would make quite an amazing dragon.

They ended up getting drunk, Sera lying on her pillows, giggling and waving an empty bottle. Dorian was far better with his alcohol, though he seemed pleasantly buzzed, reclining with a sort of loose relaxation about him that Zula had rarely seen before. He was always so careful about how he portrayed himself and how he looked, seeing him lean back without worry was nice. Dorian was freer with his smiles and a few stories from his home as well.

Zula, a bit more drunk than the last time, found out that she liked being a bit touchy. Or maybe it was just because she liked Sera and Dorian. Sera certainly didn't seem to mind when Zula threw her legs over hers and Dorian accepted the way she ended up patting his shoulder if she gestured a bit too much. If anything, he was smiling and quipping back at them. It was easy to laugh, between Sera making weird faces and giggling and Dorian's humor and well told anecdotes.

When they parted ways far too late in the night, Zula fell asleep without trouble for the first time in days.

~*~

It felt like most of Skyhold was getting ready for that ball in Orlais. Zula ended up getting roped into being part of the guards that would accompany everyone there and back, without joining the festivities at the palace. Not that she wanted to, from the stories she'd heard, it sounded like a nightmare. A court full of people that lied apparently all day long and wore masks the whole time? Ugh, no thanks.

Zula ended up getting measurements for a special outfit just for the occasion and she wasn't sure if she liked it or not. She'd see, she supposed and at least it wouldn't end up as pompous or big as the outfits for those attending the ball. The worst thing however, was the fact that they were all going to go on horseback.

"Really, no, this is a bad idea." She tried to explain to Dennet, who gave her unimpressed looks. "I don't even know how to ride and horses hate me."

"It will be fine and there is enough time still to learn. That's why you're here after all." He said as he led one of the horses out of the stable. It caught a whiff of Zula and immediately seemed unhappy. Oh no, was she going to get kicked? It was such a damn big animal.

A minute later, Zula found herself hoisted into the saddle. The horse wasn't happy and she wasn't happy, but so far, no one had died. Dennet gave her the reins, but thankfully still held onto the bridle for a moment longer. He explained to her what to do and Zula felt a moment of genuine panic. He didn't really expect her to ride on her own, did he?

Dennet took a step back and gestured for her to go ahead. Heart in her throat, she gave the horse a gentle nudge and it quickly jolted forward. The horse was so absolutely not alright with her on its back.

"Slower, steady him." Dennet said, but Zula had no idea at all on how to do that. She rode a tense, jerky lap around the courtyard and Dennet eyed her.

"Damn, he really doesn't like you. Keep going, maybe he'll get used to you." He ordered and Zula wondered if it was too late to back out. Feign sickness. Jump off the roof and break a leg. No, she would heal too fast if she did it now. Maybe she could talk to Cullen? Maybe he'd see reason when she explained the horse situation.

When Dennet asked her to speed up after another few tense laps, things went sideways so fast it took her entirely by surprise. Zula nudged the horse forward at the same time as a minor explosion took place on one of the battlements and the horse was entirely done. Before Zula knew it, she was in the dirt, disorientated and with the horse absolutely booking it away from her. Vaguely, she was aware of Dennet shouting and people apologizing, saying they were trying a new alchemical mix for the Inquisitor.

"Damn, you alright?" One of the stable hands asked as he loomed into view and held out his hand. Zula grabbed it and found herself hauled to her feet.

"Hoses hate me." She said and Dennet returned to her, while the stable hand went and fetched the horse. The horse was even unhappier than before to get close to her, though it was too well bred and raised to shy away when she was hoisted back into the saddle, once Dennet was sure she hadn't gotten hurt.

Things didn't improve from there on. When Dennet switched horses a few times, to try if another liked her better, it was the same story. The horses hated her, because they could tell that there was something obviously very wrong with her. That she wasn't human.

At the end of the day, Zula was sore all over and thoroughly sick and wary of horses. The last one had actually bitten her, when Dennet had turned away. Horses were evil menaces and nothing could change her mind.

"Why the long face, Firebrand?" Varric asked after she had shouldered her way into the Herald's Rest for dinner and had joined them at the table.

Sera leaned forward with raised eyebrows, pointedly glancing at Zula's clothes. "Looks like you ate dirt, what happened?"

"Horses hate me." Zula repeated with long suffering annoyance and defeated exhaustion. She shoved a bite of food into her mouth and chewed before swallowing. "I start to hate them."

That made a few people laugh and Varric flagged a barmaid down to get her some sweets. Which was nice and lifted her mood a bit. It was easier to be around Varric again, even if Zula had bowed out of their usual lessons a few times. She was getting ready to go back though. And maybe ask Varric why he had killed the dragon. Maybe there was a reason for it, as strange as that sounded. From Zula's experience, people didn't need reasons and they were very rarely justified in killing her kind. 

Conversation flowed again easily enough, until Zula overheard some nearby soldiers bragging about conquests.

"What are conquests?" She asked Varric, while nodded at the soldiers. Varric paused and gave her a look, before his eyebrows lifted.

"Shit, Firebrand, you really don't know?" He leaned back in his chair and seemed somewhat unsure how to proceed.

"For real?" Sera asked, who had obviously overheard the conversation and leaned in. "You know, the birds and the bees? Sticking the peg into the hole? Getting frisky?" 

"Oh, like, innuendos?" Zula asked. Innuendos she knew, even if it had taken her a bit to realize what people were talking about. Though some of Sera's phrases went over her head.

Sera made a bit of a face. "Not really. Zula, you do know where babies come from, right?"

That sounded like a trick question. So much was different among people, who knew how they copulated? Produced offspring? She had no idea. 

Zula ventured a guess, "Not...from eggs?"

The Iron Bull, who had glanced over at Sera's question, broke into surprised snorts and Krem almost inhaled his hale. Sera looked utterly baffled, before laughing as well.

"No, Firebrand." Varric said, amused and a bit worried. "Tell me, what do you know about sex?"

Was that another trick question? At her face, half the table fell quiet and exchanged glances, before The Iron Bull leaned forward, humor fading to something more serious. "Alright, listen."

The next two hours, Zula was thoroughly informed and educated in all matters intimate and whatever else. She didn't have the heart to tell them that their lesson was kind of for naught. She had no intentions of falling in love or getting frisky, as Sera put it, with someone. She barely got along with people and she hadn't even entertained the idea of people maybe being attractive. It was sweet though, how they made sure she understood that intercourse should only happen with all parties on board and that she could always say no.

"And if someone ignores that, kick their ass," The Iron Bull added with a smile, though his eye was serious.

"I will." Zula promised, though she doubted she'd get into that situation. Even if she should end up liking someone and yea, no, things were already complicated enough, she highly doubted anyone would like her back. She was just too weird. On the other hand, she now understood the innuendos and everything a lot better.

In the end, Varric and The Iron Bull bought a round of drinks for the table and the evening ended with merry jokes and shared stories.

A few days later, Dennet gave up trying to get Zula on a horse long enough for her to learn how to ride it. She was removed from the list of chosen guards and finally, blessedly, no longer had to be in the company of horses. Which stubbornly didn't like her, even when she had tried to bribe them.

"You're not missing out on anything." Sera said while they sat on the roof together. Sera was accompanying Lavellan to the ball, along with Solas and The Iron Bull and the war council. "It will just be a bunch of pricks and fancy tits praising their own importance."

Zula wasn't sad to stay behind. Things confused her enough without adding a political ball to the mix, where every misstep was noticed and talked about. It sounded awful.

The next day, a gaggle of people arrived, most of them masked. Apparently, some of them were guests of the Inquisition and some were here to ensure the Inquisitor and her people were ready for the ball. Zula was happier than ever to no longer be part of that whole mess.

"Move it." Terris said, tersely but behaved enough with other soldiers nearby, as they pushed wheelbarrow full of broken stones past the new arrivals.

Zula rolled her eyes but kept pushing to get the stones sorted and either thrown out or repurposed. She wasn't entirely sure how things worked, but then again, that was what the stonemasons were for. As they passed the guests by, she noticed one of them doing a double take. Glancing up, she met the wide eyes of a young man. He looked utterly shocked, but the next second, his face smoothed over to pleasant politeness and he gave her a nod.

Zula frowned back at him but inclined her head after a moment. He hurried inside after the others. Weird. But whatever. 

"Move." Terris barked and she seriously wondered if it was alright to trip him and send him and his stones sprawling on the ground.

"Fuck off." She hissed at him and couldn't help the way she bared her teeth. It didn't matter though, since he bared his right back at her. Maybe she was rubbing off on him.

"One day." He growled as he shouldered past her and almost upended her wheelbarrow with that move. "I'll be rid of you."

"Or I of you." She grumbled at his back, forcing down the urge to growl. That would get his attention in a bad way. People didn't growl, she had learned that pretty quickly. Whether it was because their throats were too unused to the sound or because they thought of it as undignified, she had no idea.

Zula tried not to get close to Terris again for the rest of the day and mostly succeeded. By the end though, he was too exhausted from lugging stones around to do much more than glare at her. In a fit of childishness, she stuck his tongue out at him and watched his face get even redder than before.

A few days later, just as Sera complained about all the fittings Josephine tried to wrangle them into, Zula was summoned to Lavellan, with Leliana and Josephine standing beside her.

"We received a letter," Lavellan said, reassuringly kind as always, though there was a bit of tension lining her face. If it was because of everything that was going on or the letter, Zula didn't know. "A Lady Arienna asked for you to attend the ball."

Zula waited a beat longer, hoping for some kind of explanation, only to realize that Lavellan, Leliana and Josephine expected her to answer. Only Zula had absolutely no idea who Lady Arienna was. She tried to wrack her brain. Had one of her friends or one of the soldiers talked about her? No, that name was utterly unfamiliar.

"I don't know who that is." She said. "I have never heard that name."

"Are you certain?" Leliana didn't shift, but her gaze was piercing and so very sharp, Zula wondered if the woman was capable of cutting her open and pulling out all thoughts and secrets she had ever kept. She repressed a shudder.

"Lady Arienna is attending the ball and is allowed to invite someone if she wishes to." Josephine added and while her gaze wasn't as scary as Leliana's, there was unyielding, intelligent attentiveness in her gaze. Nothing would get past her.

"I don't know who she is or why she'd invite me." Zula didn't know what else to say. She hadn't really known people before the rangers and the Inquisition. "I don't really talk to people

"Hm." Leliana sounded noncommittal and Lavellan frowned down at the letter. After a second, Zula pulled it towards her and read it. It really was just an invitation and it was for her. It didn't make a lick of sense.

"We best find out what's going on." Leliana said once Zula set the invitation back down. "I think it's best if you accompany us to the ball."

Zula was about to shrug and accept it, even if she wasn't thrilled, when she remembered one important detail. A groan escaped her, even if she managed to resist the urge to bury her head in her hands. Horses _hated_ her.


End file.
